


Frank Castle/Reader Imagines

by FFanon



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Tumblr Prompt, mentions of Maria Castle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:01:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 57
Words: 86,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7916119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FFanon/pseuds/FFanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shots and imagines for Frank Castle x Reader</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tired

Imagine coming home after a long day, just exhausted. Frank is standing in the small kitchen of the apartment, making coffee, when you walk in. The intuitive one that he is, he can sense how tired you are.

You put your purse down and run a hand through your hair right before Frank walks over. He puts one hand on the small of your back, pulling you close and uses his thumb to brush your cheek, looking at you as you look at him with a small smile and tired eyes. You move even closer, wrapping your arms around his midsection and resting your forehead on his shoulder. His hand goes into your hair as he kisses your temple. You sigh in pleasure as his fingers gently massage your scalp. 

 

He can feel how relaxed you become in his arms.

“I can tell coffee ain’t gonna help.” He says, his voice more gravelly than usual due to not talking to anyone during the day.

He feels you just barely shake your head against his shoulder.

You feel him pull back a little, causing you to lift your head and drop your arms to look at him.

As soon as you do, he puts one arm behind your knees while his other stays on your back and lifts you up. He carries you over to the bed, laying you down softly.

Your one arms rests above your head on the pillows as your other hand rests on your stomach.

He places his warm hand on your cheek, leaning down to place a lingering kiss on the corner of your mouth. 

When he stands up, you feel yourself frown slightly thinking he wasn’t gonna lay with you.

He moves to your legs and gently lifts each one. His gentle hands glide down your calves as he removes each shoe. After he takes off each shoe, he spends a few seconds massaging each foot. You blush as you hear a small moan come out of you. You see a small smirk playing at his lips when he hears it.

He then moves to your hips and pushes your shirt up slightly to expose the fly of your jeans. You find yourself taking an intake of breath as his fingers brush your skin above the waistband of your jeans as he unbuttons and unzips them.

He leans down, nuzzling your now exposed skin above your underwear. You shiver as you feel his stubble graze you there followed by the lightest hint of a kiss.

He raises his head to glance at you as he grips both sides of your jeans and pulls them off of you slowly. His fingertips caressing down your skin as he pulls the jeans down, off your legs.

He notices the goosebumps that arrive from his touch.

You watch as he then walks to the other side of the bed, finally laying down next to you.

As he reaches out to pull you close, you’re already moving to snuggle closer to him. 

You lay your body halfway on top of him; your head on his chest, your hand resting next to your head, and your one leg resting between his, but bent so your knee is resting on his inner thigh.

His one hand goes to rest on your bare knee while his other hand combs gently through your hair.

You feel him caressing your knee ever so softly. The combination of his soothing movements causes you to close your eyes almost immediately.

When you feel yourself starting to drift into sleep, you manage to whisper, “Wake me up before you leave tonight.”

He kisses your forehead and gives your knee a little squeeze.

“Red can handle the city by himself for a night. I ain’t going anywhere.”


	2. Slow Dance

“Do people just naturally know how to dance like that or you have to be taught?” You ask as you and Frank are watching a scene in some tv movie where people are slow dancing. 

Your eyes never left the screen as you ask so you don’t see him turn his head to look at you with an amused smirk, “You’re kidding, right? You’ve never slow danced before?”

You finally glance at him, a blush creeping onto your face at the way he asks, and you shake your head.

He stands up and puts his hand out to you, “It’s time to learn.”

You cover your face with one hand, in a mix of embarrassment and disbelief, while you take his hand with your other. He pulls you off the couch and leads you to the open space behind it.

He positions your one arm around his neck as he takes your other hand in his and his other hand finds your lower back.

You’re still blushing, but now its due to being this close to Frank. Sure, it’s not the first time but usually he’s bleeding and you’re sewing him.

Frank knows he’s gotten close to you and he thought he could suppress any kind of romantic feelings for you, but as soon as he holds you close he realizes how stupid he is for thinking that was possible to do.

He spends the next several minutes showing you how to follow his lead with the steps and showing you by walking through it at first. It doesn’t take you long to pick it up as you’re slow dancing with Frank before you know it.

Somehow you become pressed against him, his hand definitely holding you there. You’re basically cheek to cheek with him. You aren’t sure if its your heartbeat or his that you’re feeling.

Your arm that was wrapped around his neck has slid so that it’s your hand on the back of his neck. You feel his face turn just enough until you feel his nose brush your hair right by your ear. You shiver ever so slightly and wonder if he felt it.

You close your eyes briefly as he moves to nuzzle your temple next. You find yourself brushing your thumb against his neck gently as your grip there tightens just a tiny bit.

As you feel his lips brush against your cheek, you open your eyes and smile softly. You know his lips felt your cheek move when you smiled because you feel his lips move into a smile against your skin.

“Frank…” you whisper, moving a sliver closer to him.

“Hm?” He hums as he continues to slow dance with you and continues to caress your face with his.

“…kiss me.“ 

He stops swaying and you internally panic. You should never have pushed it.

He lets your hand go, but you’re surprised to still feel his hand on your back. He pulls back slightly to look at you, and brushes a piece of hair behind your ear before placing his hand on your cheek.

Your hand that he let go finds itself on his chest, over his heart; it most definitely could have been his heartbeat you felt before.

He leans in and you close your eyes. His thumb rubs your cheek and you feel his breath by your nose as you feel his lips ghost over the tip of it.

You feel them as they stop at your cupid’s bow before you finally feel him kiss you; your top lip between his as his lower lip fits between yours. As he kisses you, you find yourself surprised at just how sweet and gentle it is. You see a battered guy like Frank and the word ‘rough’ usually springs to mind.

A couple minutes pass by before you both find yourselves pulling away. His hand stays on your cheek as he rests his forehead against yours. You place a kiss to his bottom lip earning yourself a small smile from him.

You smile yourself and pull back so you can wrap both arms around his neck. He wraps his arms around your waist so he can hold you flush against him.

You blush as you tell him, "I think I need to practice that one some more with you.”

Frank grins as he leans in for another.


	3. Sorry

You’re not sure anymore who initiated the first move but it’s honestly the last thing on your mind.

You’re lying back on the couch, Frank is on top of you, between your legs. You’re both still fully clothed but there’s been plenty of heavy petting and roaming hands.

Your hands run up his chest, under his shirt, gliding past his dog tags. He has one hand under your own shirt, on your chest. His forearm is holding himself up so as not to crush you with his heavy, muscular form.

The kissing has you light headed due to how insanely good he is at it. You’re not surprised really, but you had only imagined how’d he be, and boy was it better than anything you imagined.

His tongue teases yours, that is when you aren’t busy gently pulling on his bottom lip with your teeth; you realized he enjoyed it when, after you did it the first time, you heard him emit a low, pleasing groan.

You’re both guilty of teasing one another with your hips. He grinds into you getting you to either throw your head back, biting your lip (which leads to Frank kissing your throat) or getting an audible moan out of you; you grind your hips into his getting a playful nip to your neck as he buries his face there or having him moan into your kissing (which you find incredibly hot). 

His hand moves from your chest to the hem of your shirt, when all of a sudden he stops and pulls back.

You see a number of different emotions on his face - confusion, sadness, embarrassment.

You can tell he’s not in this anymore and you feel self-conscious.

As Frank moves off of you, you sit up, staying close to the one side of the couch.

“Frank, I’m sorry…I shouldn’t of….I’m sorry,” you don’t even know what exactly you’re sorry for, but you feel like it needs to be said.

What you don’t know is that Maria flashed through Frank’s mind the moment he was going to take off your shirt. Her face, and the memories that came with it, halted his actions; he felt…bad at what he was doing even though another part of him knew he shouldn’t, knew that it was okay to move on this way.

When he hears the apology leave your mouth, you can see he snaps out of whatever it is. He looks at you, sees how unsure you are, and notices you keeping your distance.

He instantly moves right next to you, “No…no, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he slowly slides his hand into your hair, not sure if you might tell him to back off. He moves closer, hand on your thigh, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m the one who’s screwed up, not you. You did nothing wrong.”

He can sense how you don’t fully believe it’s all on him and it literally pains him that he’s made you feel this way.

“You…god, you are absolutely beautiful,” he kisses your cheek, hand still in your hair, “Believe me, I want to take you to that bed over there and show you how much you mean to me…” You instantly blush and you reach out, gently gripping his shirt at his chest, “…but I…I can’t…not yet. So I’m the one who should be sorry.”

You can tell by his eyes and his tone that whatever happened to him just now has to do with his past, maybe even his wife, and your heart breaks for him. You also don’t want him to think you’re angry at him over something so petty.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself into his lap and hug him. He hugs you back and leans back into the couch. 

“Don’t be sorry, Frank. It’s okay.”

You pull back and gently brush your fingertips over his bruised cheek and the cut on his chin. As you do that, his hand combs through your hair before he glides the back of his finger along the bottom of your lip.

“I’ll wait as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere,” you tell him as you meet his gaze. 

“I don’t deserve you,” he thinks out loud.

“Funny, because I was just thinking how I don’t deserve you,” you challenge him, brushing your nose against his cheek.

“You got that right. You deserve better than me.”

“So I should save these kisses for someone else?” You lean in, kissing him deeply.

When you pull away, his hand slides back into your hair to stop you from pulling away too far, “Never” he breathes, answering your question, before pulling you in for another kiss.


	4. Frozen Peas

He feels a slight kick to his calf first. He’s still tired enough to not wake up from it. 

Then he feels you wiggling around. He opens his eyes to see yours are still closed. Your furrowed brow and constant movements lets him know you’re having a nightmare.

“No! Frank!” You cry out.

It’s those simple two words that grip his heart, hard. He knows you’re safe, but hearing your strangled cry for him tears his heart in two.

He sits up and puts a hand on your shoulder, “(y/n), wake up.”

Nothing.

You’re writhing around, still mumbling words of fear and sadness.

Frank puts an arm on the other side of you so he’s leaning over you. He gently grasps one of your wrists to stop it from moving around; his thumb grazes your pulse point - your pulse pounding.

Just as he does, you wake up with a start and, due to the details of the nightmare, you instinctively punch whoever grabbed you. You get Frank right in the corner of his eye.

His head is tilted to the side, one eye in a squint, “damn,” is all he says.

It takes you a few seconds to take in your surroundings and realize what you’ve done. You pull your wrist from his grasp as your hands cover your mouth, a muffled “oh my god!” coming out.

You know he’s probably been punched a lot worse, but still, you just punched Frank in the face.

It’s when you hear his deep chuckle that you break out of your shock and gently grab his face in your hands.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!“ You keep one hand on his good cheek while you gently brush your fingertips against the corner of his eye.

He places one hand on your sheet covered thigh and slides his other hand around your wrist, the one at his eye, "You got one hell of a right hook, I’m impressed.”

You can’t believe how he’s not upset, not even a tiny bit.

“Frank,” you say with a slight laugh of amusement and disbelief.

He gently takes your hand away from his face, but holds it in his. His thumb brushes over your knuckles “You alright?”

You don’t realize until that moment that your knuckles are throbbing, “You have a pretty hard face, Castle." 

A rare, genuine laugh leaves him. It makes you smile and laugh too.

He kisses your knuckles before getting up. He grabs a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and sits back down, on the edge of the bed next to you.

He takes your hand in his and holds the bag on your knuckles.

You lean forward and place a kiss where you hit him.

He looks at you and quietly asks, "Wanna talk about it?" referring to the nightmare.

You bite your lip and take a breath before sharing, "These men were holding me…making me watch as you were attacked…they wouldn’t let me go to you when you wouldn’t get back up.”

You keep your eyes on his hands. 

You feel him kiss your forehead.

“Hey..” he says quietly, getting you to look at him.

“It was just a nightmare. You know I’ll always come back to you.”

You look at him then kiss him.

During the kiss you move the peas to his face, where you hit him, causing him to flinch a little at the unexpected coldness.

After a few minutes, the peas are tossed to the floor as you and Frank lay back down, him holding you in his arms.


	5. Magazine

He’ll never admit it, but sometimes when Frank is hanging around your apartment while you’re at work he gets bored and he’ll flip through your girly magazines - Glamour, Cosmopolitan, etc. 

He’d just flip through them but once you two started a more romantic relationship, he would find himself reading the Dating Tips section; he’d been out of the ‘game’ so long he was curious what it’s like now. He’d even read the Sex Advice sections; he knows he doesn’t need help there but figures it couldn’t hurt to see if there were any new moves he could learn. 

Most of the dating tips made him laugh; he was more old school with dating so the talk of selfies and hipster bars made him shake his head. 

One tip stands out to him - one that mentions how important date nights are, the kind where you both dress nice and enjoy a nice dinner out. He actually agrees with this one. He and Maria used to love to have date nights when they could. They’d have the neighborhood babysitter watch the kids and they’d dress up a little, going out to their favorite Italian restaurant. 

He knows that kind of thing is long gone. He can’t take you out like that, not now, not ever. He wished he could, just to give a small sense of normalcy to your relationship. 

He then realizes that he may be able to give you something similar. 

—- 

You come home from work to an empty apartment. It might be dark out, but it’s still too early for Frank to have left for the night already. 

You put down your stuff when you realize how wonderful your place smells, like fresh tomato sauce. 

Just as you move to see if Frank left a note, you hear your window open and see him step inside. 

Your face breaks into a smile. There is Frank in a pair of slacks and a white button-up dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. Your smile gets bigger when you realize it’s his suit from his trial; he must have seen it hanging in your closet. 

His white shirt is in stark contrast to his face that is littered with multi-colored bruises and small cuts. Even his chest, which peeks through thanks to him leaving the first few buttons open, has some bruises. But the man still looks as handsome as ever. 

“Frank, you look really good.“ You swear you see a slight blush make its way through his bruises. 

“Thanks,” he walks over and takes your hand, “I got a surprise for you." 

You glance down at your outfit of a blouse and skirt and feel a little under dressed compared to him. 

"Should I change for this?” You glance at his outfit before looking at him. 

“Why? You always look good.” He says casually. 

He proceeds to lead you to the window, out to the fire escape, and up to the roof. 

There on the roof is a small table, with a sheet over it. Two mismatched candles are lit and there are two paper plates, each with a helping of spaghetti on it. 

It’s both the most precious and most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you. 

You can’t stop smiling and turn to look at him, “This is amazing." 

He brings a hand to your cheek, kissing your forehead. He then takes your hand again and leads you to the table. He pulls out your chair for you, before taking his own seat. 

You both enjoy the meal that Frank himself cooked - delicious, homemade pasta sauce included. The whole thing was incredibly nice and relaxing. 

After, Frank lays out a blanket. You lay down as he blows out the candles, the only light source you had, and then lays down next to you. 

With the roof in complete darkness, the stars are more visible. 

Frank wraps an arm around you as you snuggle into his side. His other hand is behind his head. 

You lean over him a little and slide your hand into his shirt, caressing his chest. You lean down, placing a kiss on his cheek and feel him lean his head into your touch slightly; as you pull back he turns his face and kisses you. 

You pull away slowly, far enough back to look at him, "Thank you for all of this,” you tell him. 

He moves his hand from behind his head and gently takes your chin in his hand, his thumb brushing over your lips, “I wish I could give you more." 

You give him a small smile and gently grip his wrist, "I don’t need more, I just need you." 

When he smiles at you, your heart flutters. He moves his hand to the back of your head and pulls you down to him for another kiss. 

The kissing becomes more passionate and you think how smart it was for him to blow out those candles. You pull away and take off your shirt. 

Frank sits up to meet you and kisses your jaw, moving down to your neck. As you tilt your head to give him more access, you work on unbuttoning his shirt. His hand slides up your back, removing your bra, as you untuck his shirt from his pants. 

He lays you back on the blanket gently, taking off his shirt before hovering over you. You gasp quietly as the cool metal of his dog tags glide along your bare chest as he moves above you, placing small kisses on your skin. 

You lift your hips so he can slide off your skirt and underwear. You have to admit that you get a little thrill being outside in the open like this, draped in the darkness of the night, no one the wiser to what you two are up to. 

He kisses you as you unzip his pants. 

Frank makes love to you on the dark rooftop, under the stars. 

— 

Afterwards, he lays next to you again. You sit up, put your underwear back on, and grab his shirt. You put it on, buttoning it the same way he did, a little open on top. Frank sits up and pulls you into his lap; he loves seeing you in his shirts. You feel his fingertips brush against your arms as he rolls the sleeves up more for you. 

He wraps his arms around you, leaning forward into you as he nuzzles your temple. You gently grasp his face and kiss him sweetly. You can’t help but run a hand over his bicep, the flexed muscle hard under your hand. 

Before either of you have time to register the first few random raindrops, it starts raining. 

"Ah, shit.” Frank says. 

You laugh and stand up. Frank follows, grabbing the rest of your clothes. He leads you down the fire escape. You giggle when, five steps from the bottom, you feel him wrap an arm around your waist. He lifts you off the stairs and places you in front of the window to your apartment. 

Once you’re both inside, Frank drops your clothes on the table and shakes his head slightly to shake off some rain. You then catch him gazing at you, a grin on his face. 

Your hair is damp, his white shirt now slightly see through from the rain, and you’re looking back at him with the cutest smile on. 

He could stare at you forever. 

You don’t take your eyes off each other as he walks over to you. 

He softly takes your face in his hands and kisses you. You grasp his forearms tenderly and smile into the kiss. 

When he pulls away, he looks into your eyes, “I love you." 

It feels like time stands still. Frank has never said those three words before. You came to accept that he’d probably never actually say them to you. 

With your hands still on his forearms, you slowly back out of his grasp, "Frank…” You couldn’t have heard him right. 

He places a hand on the side of your neck and moves toward you, while gently pulling you back to him. You feel tears well up in your eyes. You don’t know how to feel. 

“No, listen to me. I do. I love you. I never believed I’d be able to feel this way again but that’s how you’ve changed me…" 

You have one hand resting on his torso and he’s holding your other hand to his chest. 

”…You’re the only good thing in my life and I need you to know that. I need you to know that I love you.“ 

You knew. You always knew. 

He lets go of your hand to wipe a tear from your cheek. 

It’s not until he sees you start to smile, that a grin breaks out on his own face. 

He leans his forehead against yours, his thumb brushing along your jaw. 

He kisses you, his hand sliding into your hair and his other hand pulling you close. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, and pull away from the kiss so you can tell him, "I love you too”. 

Frank looks at you with adoration and smiles, he kisses the corner of your mouth, “I know." 

You blush as you return his smile. He pulls you even closer, moving to place small kisses on your neck. You grip the back of his neck and smile to yourself. 

Of course he knew.


	6. Sleepy

You’re reading a book at the kitchen table when you see Frank walk in from the bedroom.

He’s only wearing black sweatpants. His hair is sticking up in places and he has that tired, squinty look to him. He scratches the stubble on his jaw and yawns. 

“His snoring is shaking the god damn bed.” Frank grumbles, referring to the pet pitbull he saved and who you both have unofficially adopted.

You give him an amused smile, “So tell him to get off the bed. You’ve only been asleep for like 2 hours.”

As Frank walks past you, he bends down to kiss the top of your head, “Nah, I can’t do that. He’s had a pretty shitty life, let him relax.”

Of course Frank Castle would let the dog take the bed. You just love him.

He turns on the coffee machine and leans back against the counter waiting for the coffee. He crosses his arms across his chest.

You glance up from your book a couple minutes later to find Frank, still standing with his chin touching his chest, asleep.

You put the book down and walk over to him.

You run your hands up and down his biceps, “Frank…”

“Hm?” His eyes shoot open as he lifts his head. He pulls you close.

“You were sleeping standing up. Why don’t you go lay down on the couch?”

He nods, “Yeah, alright.” He takes your hand and walks over to the couch.

You giggle, “Why are you bringing me too?”

“I sleep better when you’re in my arms.”


	7. Bath

This was just what you needed. You were having trouble sleeping so you figured a warm bath would do the trick and you were right. You feel so relaxed, the warm temperature nothing but soothing. Your hair is halfway dry; you had dipped under the water earlier but have since just rested your head on the edge of the tub. Your eyes are closed and you enjoy the silence of the building at 2am.

Frank wipes the blood from his lip after he shoots a round into the head of the piece of shit he just duked it out with. For the past few nights he’s been taking care of those involved in a sex trafficking ring. He’s hit a few of their places where they conduct their business. Tonight was the night he finished taking them out. He busted inside surprising five of them; as the fighting ensued more had ran in from other areas of the house. He’s pretty sure he took care of all of them now. He keeps still, listening for any footsteps approaching but there is nothing except silence.

__

You don’t even bother opening your eyes when you hear Frank come in through the window in the other room. You know it’s him because you’ve come to learn the sound of his footsteps very well.

He sees you’re not in bed and notices the bathroom door opened a crack. He wipes his bloody face on his sleeve before looking in and seeing you in the tub. He needs to be near you right now, needs to hold you.

You open your eyes when you hear the door open. You don’t bother covering up, it’s not the first time he’s seen you naked. Seeing his bloody face doesn’t shock you anymore but you notice his expression is different – more worrisome than stoic – it grabs your attention instantly.

You sit up as he takes a knee next to the tub, his hands immediately on your face.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

He just looks at you, one hand caressing your cheek gently.

You put your hand over his, not even caring that you’re getting blood on yourself from his knuckles, “Frank?” you ask, almost in a whisper.

He leans in and kisses you softly. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours. You close your eyes, just appreciating that he’s made it back to you.

He brushes his lips past your nose to place a kiss on your forehead before you feel him pull away.

You watch as he stands up and gets into the tub with you, fully clothed. He grabs your arm gently, pulling you into his chest as he leans back against the other end of the tub.

He won’t tell you right now, but it’s what he saw tonight that has him like this. After he confirmed that he had killed every last one of them, he headed into the basement. He saw the bodies of the women that were victims of the trafficking ring. Each one of them had a single bullet wound to the head. Long dead before he got there. Those women could have been anyone’s wife, mother, sister, or daughter living in this city - it could have been you. He thinks how easily you could have been grabbed off the street and forced into that life – it scared the hell out of him.

You don’t care that the blood from his wounds has turned the water red, you stay on his lap; his arm wrapped around you as he places his other hand on the back of your neck. You wipe some blood from the cuts on his face as he gently massages your neck, eyes never leaving your face.

“Is everything okay?” You slide your hand down to rest on his shoulder, as you place a quick kiss to his lips.

He brushes the back of his finger along the bottom of your chin, “It is now.”


	8. Crossfire

It’s 3:37am when Frank gets in and you’re not home.

The bed doesn’t even look like it’s been slept in.

He notices files open on the kitchen table and his heart drops at what he knows you did. You left to chase a lead by yourself.

It’s not the first time you’ve done this, but you’re usually home by now. He knows because you normally get up at 6am when you have work and you usually get tired at least by 3am.

He looks at the information in the files and he takes off to the location he figures you probably went.

He makes it inside the abandoned warehouse and he immediately smells gunpowder. His heart pounds with fear.

He can tell there’s no longer any threats inside the building so he starts calling your name and doing something he hasn’t done in a long time, pray. Pray that you’re okay.

__

You hear him, but you’re too weak to yell back.

You reach into your pocket and take out your cell phone that died hours ago. You start tapping it on the ground next to you.

He stops when he hears it.

He follows the noise, taking him behind a pile of wooden crates, and finds you.

__

You’ve been shot. Caught in the cross fire of a gang battle. You’ve lost enough blood to apparently cause concern because Frank’s face falls when he sees you.

“Jesus Christ!” He says as he rushes to your side. 

His hand covers yours that’s over the bullet wound. You had been applying pressure, or so you thought, but when Frank pushes down you realize how weak you’d become because compared to him, you definitely weren’t pushing hard enough.

Your eyelids start to close but you feel his hand on your cheek, “Hey, you stay with me. You hear me?”

You think you nod but you aren’t sure.

“You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be fine.” He says it as if he’s almost trying to convince himself. 

He takes his jacket off quickly, followed by his shirt leaving him in only a wife beater. He then takes his belt off. He pushes his shirt onto the wound and then wraps the belt around you, fastening it over the shirt to apply pressure.

He throws his jacket back on and picks you up.

“No…hospital.” You whisper.

“You fucking kidding me? That’s the only place you’re going.”

“Gangs” is the only other word you manage to get out, hoping he’d understand.

He did.

“Son of a bitch” he grumbles. He knows what you mean. You go to the hospital and gunshot wounds always warrant police. They match the bullet inside of you to a known gang banger’s gun, there’s a good chance that gang finds out you were in the warehouse and now you’re the next target.

He carries you outside and keeps in the shadows as best as he can with the sun starting to rise. He flags down a cab because he needs to get back to your apartment as fast as possible. He gives the driver a few hundred dollars – paying for his silence.

Frank tries to keep you awake but it’s getting harder to do. He yells a few times at the driver to go faster.

He’s practically jumping out of the cab with you when it pulls up in front of your building.

He gets to work immediately.

He lays you down on the bed and covers you with several blankets to try and keep you from going into shock.

He rips his jacket off and grabs his medical kit that he keeps at your place.

He takes off the belt and moves his shirt that’s almost soaked with your blood. He cuts off your top and grabs the forceps; he glances at you and sees you’re passed out. He moves over you, a knee on either side of your legs, and puts a hand over your mouth. With his other hand he digs the forceps into your wound, looking for the bullet.

Your eyes shoot open as soon as he digs in and you go to yell but find it muffled.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Frank says calmly to you.

Your body starts moving to try to flee the pain but he squeezes his knees together, pinning your legs between them.

You grasp and claw at his arms, trying to get him to stop. He knows it’s just a normal reaction, but it kills him to see you do that.

He finds the bullet within seconds and pulls it out, tossing it and the forceps on the floor.

You instantly quiet down and within a minute you’ve passed out again.

He quickly threads a needle and starts sewing up the wound; he’s not surprised that you don’t wake up from that. The needle is a piece of cake compared to something digging around an open wound.

__

You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck.

You open your eyes and see Frank making his way to you from the kitchen, as you try to move to sit up, you hear him command you, “Don’t move.”

You obey, mostly because it hurts like hell.

He sits next to you on the edge of the bed and brushes some hair off your forehead, “You remember what happened?”

You nod, “I got shot. You found me.”

He scoffs at how simple you make it sound.

He pulls the blankets back and you realize you’re in only a bra. He takes the gauze off your stomach and puts a new, clean one on. You notice you have a cotton ball taped to the inside of your arm.

You look at him, “Where’d you get blood from?”

He glances at what you’re talking about and sees you glancing at your arm. When he pulls the blankets back over you, you notice he has a band aid in the same spot on his own arm.

“Yours?” You ask quietly.

He nods. He explains how he knew you needed blood but didn’t know what to do so he called Matt, who called Claire. She couldn’t take blood from the hospital but she brought the materials needed to draw blood and to do a quick transfusion. Since he’s a universal donor, his blood was choice.

He takes the cotton ball and tape off your arm and removes his own band aid, throwing them all out.

He looks at you, his jaw muscle clenching, “You scared the hell outta me. You know that?”

You shake your head.

“Did you even think about if you got killed? What’d that do to…to the people you leave behind?”

“Do you?” You challenge him.

You swear you’ve stumped Frank Castle for the first time.

He takes a second, eyes never leaving yours..

“I think about you every time I’m out there.”

He continues, “About how fucking pissed at me you’d be if I got myself killed.” You see a second of a smirk appear on his face.

“Well you’re right about that.” You give him a small smile.

“Then know it goes both ways.” He says seriously.

You nod. You take a minute before saying, “I am sorry, Frank. And thank you…for saving me.”

He leans down, close to your face, and whispers, “You never need to thank me for that,” he kisses your cheek.

You instantly put your hand on the back of his head and keep it there as he pulls away from your cheek. He moves to look at your face, you see his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips then back again.

You lean in, closing the gap between you, and place a light kiss at the corner of his mouth. Just as you start to pull away, he moves forward, kissing you softly.


	9. Snowfall

When he found out how much you love watching the snow fall, he told you to pack a bag.

You had never imagined a road trip with him. You wonder why you never had before because it turned out to be a lot of fun.

He drove with one hand on the wheel. His free hand was usually touching you in some way. When there was a comfortable silence, his hand was laced with yours. When you were talking, his hand was kneading the back of your neck gently, his attention split between you and the road. When he was talking, his hand was on your thigh, giving it a little squeeze every now and then. When you couldn’t help but sing along to the radio and laugh at yourself, he smiled and laughed with you, his hand brushing along your cheekbone or brushing the hair from your face. 

When he pulled up to your destination, you were rendered speechless.

He glanced at you, nervous that maybe you would hate it. You didn’t. Not at all.

That’s how you found yourself standing in the kitchen of a one room cabin, upstate, in the middle of nowhere. It had been actively snowing since you got here yesterday; snowfall for as far as you could see. Snow blanketed the area for miles. It was perfect.

Although it was one big room, it didn’t feel cramped. One corner was the kitchen, the bed in another corner, a fireplace on one wall with a couch in front of it. The only other room was the bathroom.

You had woken up first. You let him sleep since he drove the whole way here. You had on Frank’s long sleeved thermal shirt, hitting you mid-thigh, with the sleeves rolled up.

You grabbed a mug of coffee and looked out the window at the beauty of Mother Nature.

The hot coffee warmed you up from the inside out.

“You’ve gotta be freezing, I haven’t started the fire back up yet.”

You turn around, not even having heard Frank get out of bed.

He looks adorable. His hair is messy and his eyes are still a little squinty from just waking up. He’s only got a pair of sweatpants on so you’ve got another beautiful view for yourself of his bare chest.

You walk over to him and hand him your mug of coffee, “Here, this’ll help.”

As he takes a sip, you wrap your arms around his waist and place a kiss on his chest. His arm instinctively wraps around you, holding you close. He kisses the top of your head, rubbing your back.

You pull away and walk to the kitchen to get yourself another cup of coffee. He walks to the fireplace, placing the mug on the mantle. He grabs some of the chopped wood piled up and places a few pieces inside before lighting it up.

You lean against the kitchen counter watching him, sipping the coffee you just poured.

He downs the rest of his cup and walks over to you. He walks up right in front of you, placing his mug on the counter. He then gently takes your mug from your hands and places it to the side, next to his.

He puts his hands on the counter, on either side of you, his body pressed close. You feel the heat radiating off of him and it feels so good.

You give him a small smile before leaning in. You open your mouth slightly, as does he, but instead of kissing him, you just ghost your lips over his. Before you even get a chance to giggle at teasing him, he growls quietly and captures your lips with his own.

You place your hands on either side of his jaw, his ears in the space between your thumb and index finger. You use your fingers to scratch gently behind his ears as he deepens the kiss. You feel one of his hands grab your butt and squeeze gently as his other slides up your back and into your hair.

You pull away to catch your breath which causes a smug grin to form on his face.

He tenderly tugs your hair, pulling your head back, exposing your throat to him. He skims his lips up your throat, placing a kiss under your chin. He moves to the side of your neck, sucking lightly. You lightly drag your nails down his chest.

As he hits a certain spot, on reflex, you lower your head and end up moaning softly in his ear.

Your breathy moan in his ear drives him wild; a “fuck” is groaned into your ear before you feel his teeth scrape against your earlobe.

His hands grip the back of your thighs and lift you up; your legs wrap around his hips, arms around his neck, as he carries you to the kitchen table.

He keeps one arm wrapped around you as he sits you on the edge of the table. He uses his arm to lift you up so he can slide your panties off. You push his sweatpants and underwear down, with his help, and he takes you right there on the kitchen table.

When you’re both finished, his head is buried in your neck. You feel his heaving chest against your own. He lifts his head and kisses you.

He pulls his underwear and pants back up. He grabs your panties and slips them back onto your legs. He leans down, placing kisses on the tops of your thighs as he pulls them back up. You take over from him, hopping off the table, and pulling them back up completely.

You kiss him softly and after a few minutes, pull away. He strokes your cheek with his thumb and kisses the bridge of your nose.

“Frank…I love you.”

You feel him still, but his expression doesn’t change. You question whether you should have even admitted it to him.

“I don’t expect you to say it back and that’s okay. But I just…I wanted you to know.”

Your heart starts to calm when you feel his thumb start stroking your cheek again.

He then combs his hand through your hair. He places a kiss at the corner of your eye, causing you to close them. He then grazes his lips over your closed eyelids. Your hands grip his hips lightly, part of you still worried that he may run.

He sweetly nudges his nose against yours, before kissing it.

“Look at me” he commands softly.

You open your eyes and look at him.

“I just want you to know, that I fell for you a long time ago.”

You feel a slight blush creep onto your cheeks but you also feel a smile grow. One that is matched by Frank.

Like you said before…

…it was perfect.


	10. Weekend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut warning

You came home from work to a note slipped under the door. It was from Frank. You hadn’t seen him in several days because he was busy tracking down some gang and its members.

  
The note included a room key and asked for you to meet him at a hotel. He said to pack a bag for a couple of days; you make sure to pack for both of you since he hasn’t been home.

  
That’s how you find yourself walking into an elevator to take you up to the room. Just as the doors close, you see a hand jut out to stop them. As soon as you see the scabbed knuckles, you can’t help but smile.

  
Frank walks in and immediately hits the ‘Doors Close’ button.

  
He takes the bag from your hands and wraps his other arm around you, pulling you against him, “God, I missed you.”

  
He drops the bag just as you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him.

  
He grabs your butt, squeezing lightly. You reach up removing his baseball hat, holding it in your hand as you continue kissing.

  
When the elevator hits your floor, you both pull away. You place his cap back on his head and he picks up your bag; he takes your hand and walks to the room.

  
Once inside, you take off your shoes as Frank places the bag on a chair. He takes off his cap and jacket before making his way over to you.

  
The room is beautiful. It’s not a suite, but it’s still one of the nicer rooms.

  
As he gets close, you smile, “What is all this?”

  
Frank runs the back of his hand against your cheek, a sad smile on his face.

  
You furrow your brow, “What is it?”

  
He hesitates for a second before explaining, “I need to go away for a few weeks…”

  
“Why?”

  
“The gang I’ve been following. They’re going to Philadelphia. I need to follow them to finish this.”

  
You walk past him, upset. You know this is who he is, but you’re still human. You don’t like the idea of him being in a different city for so long. What if something happens to him, you won’t be able to help in any way.

  
You feel him come up behind you, a warm hand on your hip as he goes to your side, softly he says, “Hey, don’t do that, talk to me.”

  
You hate that you have tears in your eyes. You wipe a stray tear from your cheek before looking at him.

  
His heart shatters; he hates seeing you cry but more so he hates being the reason you cry.

  
His hand slides from your hip to your back as he steps in front of you, his other hand cups your cheek. You halfheartedly push him away but he doesn’t budge and neither do you because his hand on your back stays strong.

  
He pulls you into his chest. You bury your face in his neck and a few more tears escape.

  
He kisses your shoulder before pulling back to wipe your tears. You sigh, “It’s just you’ve been gone for days already and now even longer. I miss you. Plus, what if something happens to you?”

  
“I’ll be alright.”

  
“Yeah? Who’s gonna stitch you up when you need help?” you argue.

  
He kisses a couple more tears away, “I’ll figure it out. I’m not worried, so you shouldn’t be either.”

  
You laugh in disbelief, “So I shouldn’t be either.” you repeat his words, “Tell me Frank. If I came to you and said I’m going out of town for a month, you wouldn’t be worried?”

  
He stays silent. You got your answer.

  
“And that’s without me being around gangs with guns. So imagine why I’m worried.”

  
He kisses your eyebrow, then places a kiss above it. His lips linger there and he mumbles against your skin, “This is who I am.”

  
You close your eyes for a beat and take a small breath. You know you need to get over it because it’s happening whether you like it or not.

  
“I know. I…I just…I know this is your life, Frank, but you’re my life. Just remember that.”

  
He kisses you slowly and tenderly. You feel his love behind it.

  
When he finally pulls away, you ache for more of him.

  
He kisses your cupid’s bow, “How’d I manage to win the heart of a woman like you?”

  
You can’t help but have a little smile show at his sweet remark, “I have no idea. Let me know when you figure it out.”

  
Frank laughs and kisses you again. His hand moves to grasp the side of your neck, thumb skimming your jaw. You wrap your arms around his neck. He pulls away, “I love you.”

  
You’ll never get tired of hearing him say that. It grips at your heart every time.

  
You kiss him in response.

  
He slides his hands down your butt and grabs the back of your thighs, lifting you up around his hips. You hold onto him as he moves you both, never breaking the kiss. He sits on the edge of the bed, you straddling his lap.

  
You break the kiss when you realize, “What is this then? Why the hotel for the weekend?”

  
He combs his hand through your hair, kissing your jaw, before looking at you, “I leave Monday and I want you to myself these next two days…” His voice is throaty and low; you feel the desire grow in the pit of your stomach.

  
He kisses your neck, “…no distractions…” he kisses your cheek, “…no interruptions…” he kisses your lips, “…just you, me, and this bed.”

  
His voice alone could make you come undone, especially when he says things like that.

  
You know you’re blushing because he kisses your cheeks with an amused smile, something he does when you do.

  
You take his face in your hands and lean in, brushing your slightly parted lips against his. He moves in, going to kiss you and only grasping your lips for a split second before you pull away – you can tease him a little, he deserves it for leaving you again.

  
His eyes darken with lust and hunger. You smile to yourself, loving that you can do that to him.

  
You finally kiss him properly and passionately. His hands slide under your shirt, up your back as you slip your tongue into the kiss. After a minute, as you move to stand up from his lap, you pull away from the kiss slowly. Frank actually leans his head back and hovers off the bed, kissing you until the last possible second.

  
You push him gently in the chest to stop him from standing up.

  
He eyes you in front of him as you see his tongue sweep across his lower lip.

  
When you read Frank’s note earlier, you figured something like this was bound to happen so you made sure to wear the sexy, new underwear you recently bought – a black, lacy set.

  
You unzip your jeans and slowly slide them down your legs, stepping out of them. Frank’s eyes follow your every move.

  
You look at him as you grab the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and over your head.

  
You see Frank’s eyes almost glaze over when he takes in your bra and panties and how incredibly sexy you look in them.

  
You walk back to him, standing between his legs, and lean down to kiss him. His hands are on your thighs within half a second of you approaching him. You lean down a little further, grabbing the hem of his shirt, and take it off of him.

  
Frank surprises you by standing up after you remove his shirt. His arm wraps around your waist, his other hand slides to the back of your head, gripping your hair gently. He kisses you deeply as he walks you backwards until you’re against the wall.

  
His hand moves up your back and unhooks your bra. He takes half a step back and you stick your arms out a little as he glides the straps down your arms, taking it off and tossing it behind him.

  
He doesn’t move back into you right away; he looks you up and down.

  
“You didn’t like that? It was new.” you tease.

  
“Oh no, I loved it. But I love it more on the floor.” He moves back into you, his hands skimming down your sides, caressing the sides of your breasts, not stopping until he slides his hands into the back of your panties, squeezing your butt.

  
Your head rests against the wall as you lean back, Frank’s mouth on your collarbone, and moving down to your chest, driving your senses wild.

  
You undo his belt and zipper as his mouth finds yours again. You push his jeans down, letting them drop, and he kicks them away.

  
Your hand grips his hair as he lowers himself slowly to the ground, his lips and tongue trailing themselves down your chest and stomach.

  
He glides the back of his finger against your panties, over your slit, causing you to bite your lip at the sensation. You watch as his slides your panties down your legs then grasps each ankle to lift your leg out of them.

  
He takes your left calf and kisses your shin, before placing your leg over his shoulder. His mouth is on your opening before you have time to even take a breath.

  
You cry out his name and grip his hair as your other hand attempts to grip onto the wall behind you.

  
As his tongue moves deeper, your body trembles. Your mouth is almost permanently open with silent moans as the pleasure hits such peaks you can’t even find your voice.

  
You look down, watching as he tastes you. You don’t watch long as his tongue hits the right spot causing you to almost shove his face closer.

  
“Ohh…ohh god…Frank…Frank…ohh, fuck!” You moan as you come undone.

  
You’re still overcoming the effects of it when Frank moves your leg from his shoulder and stands up. Your legs feel a little weak and Frank notices with a smug smirk. He wraps his arms around you to steady you, “I got you,” he kisses your temple as you hug his neck, still slightly panting.

  
“You think doing _that_ is going to make me miss you _less_?” You giggle softly and getting a chuckle out of Frank.

  
“Maybe my goal was to make you miss me more.” He brushes your hair from your shoulder and places a kiss there.

  
“That would be awfully cruel.” You smirk.

  
“Yeah, well, I’m kind of an asshole.” You feel him grin against your neck.

  
“I might have to agree.” You smile as you feel the breath from his low chuckle hit your skin.

  
He kisses up your neck, stopping to nip at your earlobe, before placing small kisses down your jaw. He then takes your face in his hands and kisses you.

  
You drag your nails down his stomach until you hit the waistband of his boxer briefs. You slide your fingertips inside and pull away from the kiss, “You know, if I’m naked, you should be too. It’s the respectable thing to do,” you tease.

  
“That right?” He grins.

  
You nod. You can already see that he’s hard so it’s silly for him to still be wearing them anyway.

  
His hands still on your face, his kisses you passionately as you slowly start to slide them down his hips. He gets impatient because he pulls away to slide them down faster, springing himself free.

  
As he stands back up, he scoops you up into his arms. You yelp out of surprise and hold onto his neck. He walks over to the bed, kneeling onto it and placing you down gently. He hovers over you, hands on either side of you, looking you up and down, admiring your body; it’s not the first time he’s done this and you get embarrassed every time.

  
“You’re perfect” he whispers in awe, almost to himself.

  
You blush and pull gently on his dog tags until he gets the hint. He smirks and lowers himself to you.

  
You spread your knees a little wider as he settles his body between your legs. He props himself up on his forearm as he kisses you. He runs his other hand down the side of your body and down your thigh.

  
You feel, against your stomach, how hard he is and your center aches for him.

  
You reach down and grab him, stroking him slowly a few times.

  
He pulls away to rest his forehead against your temple and moans in your ear.

  
“I fucking need you.”

  
That’s all you needed to hear because you feel the same way.

  
He moves back a little as he lines up his length between your legs.

  
He enters you slowly and kisses your collarbone. You lean your head back at the feeling of him inside you. He places a kiss to the underside of your chin.

  
Your hands grip his shoulder blades as he starts a slow, tantalizing pace. He loves to tease you because he loves hearing you moan for him to go faster, harder.

  
He kisses you, slipping his tongue in when you moan into his mouth. You drag your nails down his back as you pull away, kissing his jaw, “Please…” you moan against his skin as you push your hips into his, changing the angle for a second causing both of you to moan into each other.

  
He knows what you’re asking for.

  
He starts filling you a little faster. You reach down and grab his butt, pulling him into you more; you nip at his shoulder at the intense feeling of him being deeper inside.

  
When you take his face in your hands, kissing him softly, you feel him slow down again. He leans on his forearms so he’s even closer to you. A few short kisses follow before you’re looking at one another.

  
Frank kisses you again as he picks up the pace and starts moving into you harder than before. You instantly break the kiss as your head leans back, pushing into the pillows.

  
“Frank…” you basically whine as you feel yourself getting close.

  
You spread your legs even wider to increase the pleasure, your knees falling to either side. He switches between kissing your cheek and your jaw to his face hovering over yours, panting and moaning.

  
As your own moans grow more frequent, you hear him mumble, “That’s it” as encouragement to hear more from you.

  
He feels you tighten around him as you cry out in pleasure; he’s not far behind as he drives into you a few more times, your feet hooking around the back of his thighs as he finishes.

  
He kisses you passionately, still on top of you, still inside of you. You wrap your legs around his hips to keep him there a little longer; he smiles into the kiss when he feels you do that.

  
When he pulls away, you run your hand through his short hair, resting it on the back of his head. He kisses your cheek and your temple.

  
When he finally pulls out of you and moves to lay next to you, you swear your body instantly aches for his.

  
Frank supports himself on his forearm so he’s on his side, leaning over you slightly. His hand runs over your stomach, thumb brushing over your navel, before sliding up; his fingers resting between your breasts, thumb brushing the underside of one. You reach out and take one of his dog tags in your hand, your fingers running over his imprinted name before letting it go. You look up at him and place your hand on his jaw; he turns slightly to place a kiss on your palm.

  
“I really missed you this past week.”

  
He takes his hand off your chest to grip your forearm gently; he pulls his face away from your touch so he can kiss the inside of your wrist, “Figured you wouldn’t miss this beat up mug or the blood stains I bring home with me,” he smirks as he runs his thumb over your lips. You stop his hand long enough to place a kiss to the fingertip of his thumb before letting him continue to caress your skin.

  
“You know I’ll take all of it if it means you’re home with me. The apartment felt empty without you.”

  
He stares down at you for a few seconds before kissing you, “Now I feel more like shit about having to leave you again.”

  
“Don’t be, that wasn’t what I wa…” but he cuts you off with a kiss, mumbling “I know.”

  
___  
SATURDAY

You wake up to a feeling of light touches. You’re lying on your stomach, head to the side on the pillow, and you look over your shoulder. There’s Frank, on all fours over you, placing small kisses down the entire length of the right side of your back, right down to your calf; the sensation mixed with the feeling of cool metal gliding across your skin as his dog tags dangle onto your back with his movements. You smile softly as you see him start working his way back up to you, starting with your other leg.

  
He takes notices when your whole body stiffens for a second as you stretch out your legs to stretch out your whole body, from just waking up, and he playfully bites at your buttocks.

  
“Frank!” you yelp in surprise and giggle.

  
He gives a gruff chuckle as he continues kissing up your back, finally reaching your shoulder blade.

  
He keeps you pinned between his arms as he leans down and captures your lips as you look over your shoulder at him. Without breaking the kiss, you turn onto your back, wrapping your arms around his neck.

  
He lowers himself onto his forearms so you’re skin to skin. His one hand plays with your hair as he pulls away slowly.

  
“Mornin’ beautiful” he whispers, kissing the tip of your nose. He skims his lips along your jaw, before sucking delicately on your neck.

  
You move your hand to the back of his head, gently running your fingers back and forth; your other hand moves to his muscled back; you absentmindedly run your fingertips over a few of his scars that are raised.

  
“Good Morning” you breathe.

  
He kisses right below your ear before lifting his head. You lean your head up slightly to kiss him, pulling him back down with you. You feel him grin against your lips briefly.

  
When you both finally pull away, he sweetly smooths your hair back, “I’m gonna order us some coffee and food, sound good?” You nod and give him a quick kiss before he pushes himself up and sits on the edge of the bed, grabbing the phone.

  
You sit up and look at him; you see his scarred back and you watch as his muscles ripple underneath his skin from his movements. You move behind him, on your knees. You drape your arms over his shoulders, so his head is resting against your collarbone. You play with his dog tags as you lean over and kiss the side of his face that doesn’t have the phone against it.

  
You feel his cheek move as he smiles, his hand reaching back and gripping the back of your thigh. You nuzzle his ear with your nose before placing a kiss there. You let go of the dog tags so you can caress his chest. You place several small kisses on the back of his neck.

  
He finishes with room service and hangs up. He takes one of your hands in his and kisses your fingers. You feel as he turns your hand over, places a kiss on your palm then nips at it gently; he found that little secret of yours out a while ago, how the feeling of his mouth and teeth on your palm turns you on.

  
The nails of your other hand reflexively grip his chest when he does that and he feels your exhale of breath spread across the back of his neck, your forehead against the back of his head.

  
“How long until room service gets here?” you whisper against his hair.

  
“Half hour” he quickly replies, you feel his muscles tensing in anticipation. As soon as he feels you sit back from him, he turns around, kneeling on the bed facing you.

  
He moves so he’s sitting on his knees, but with his upper back leaning against the headboard. You bite your lip slightly at watching him stroke himself a few times. You move to stand over him. Just the sight of him near your heat turns you on. He places a kiss right above it before you lower yourself onto him, your butt resting against the top of his thighs.

  
Your legs are bent at the knees, feet supporting you while planted on the mattress. Frank also helps by grabbing your butt with both hands. It’s a mixture of you riding him and him thrusting into you every now and then. Your arm is wrapped around his neck while you keep your other hand on his torso.

  
With his hands gripping your butt, he helps you move against him. Your nipples brush against his chest with every movement. As you get closer, you both stop kissing, foreheads resting against each other. He can feel your body start to tense so he knows you’re almost there and he feels you losing momentum due to it. He takes over, still holding onto you, and starts thrusting into you.

  
Your arm tightens around his neck as you feel yourself right on the edge. Your moans get higher as his thrusts get more frequent. His own moans mix with yours as he gets closer too. You finish first, crying out his name which is enough to make him climax right after you.

  
You hold each other, both of your bodies tense as the waves of ecstasy play out. As you both catch your breath, kisses are shared in between.

  
He holds you against him as he pushes himself up a little so he can stretch his legs out in front of him; you gasp, unexpectedly, at his movements due to the fact that he’s still inside of you. When he sits back down, your knees are now on either side of him.

  
He slides a hand up over your breast to your neck and rests it on your jaw. His thumb is on your bottom lip and brushes downward, pulling your lip down slightly for a brief second, “You have any idea the kind of hold you have on me?” he says so low you almost don’t hear him. His eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes.

  
You’re so taken aback by his words that you just shake your head, eyes never leaving his.

  
“Hell, I’d walk through fire for you,” He starts placing kisses along your jaw, “You’re everything,” he breathes, next to your ear. He slides his hand down to your chest, resting over your heart for a few seconds.

  
You take his face in your hands and lean forward, kissing him slowly. You feel his hands on your back as his tongue meets yours. After a few minutes you pull away slowly and place a kiss on his cupid’s bow, “Every single day I’m so grateful that of everyone in this city, you chose me to be with, me to love.”

  
“See, I tend to see it as the other way around.” He says sincerely which brings a few tears to your eyes.

  
“Don’t go crying on me now” he softly teases with a small smile, brushing his finger against your cheek. He kisses your cheek, under your eye.

  
“Then don’t say sweet things like that.” You go to kiss the corner of his mouth but he turns to capture your lips in a full kiss.

  
There’s a knock at the door followed by a muffled, “Room Service.”

  
Frank pulls away from you slowly, “We’re coming!” he says loud enough so the guy hears him, eyes never leaving yours. All of a sudden he grins and says so only you can hear him, “Well, we were before.” and chuckles.

  
“Oh my god!” You laugh and kiss his cheek before getting off of him and standing up.

  
You find your panties and pull them on. Then you find Frank’s discarded shirt and slip it on; the shirt hits you mid-thigh so your panties are covered.

  
Frank quickly grabs a pair of his sweatpants from the bag you brought and pulls them on.

  
He’s behind you as you go to answer the door. When you open it, he grabs the top of the door, standing just in the shadow so his face is obscured.

  
The room service guy starts to make a move to push the cart into the room but you step in front of him slightly, “That’s okay, we got it. Thank you though.” You hand him a tip as he glances at Frank behind you. He says thank you and leaves.

  
Frank comes around you and pushes the cart into the room and over to the table.

  
You eat a grape as Frank pours the coffee. You grab another grape, holding it out for him, he opens his mouth and you pop it in.

  
He hands you a mug of coffee as he takes a sip from his own. You take a sip and close your eyes briefly as you enjoy it when you feel Frank kiss your forehead. You open your eyes and watch him as he takes another sip, followed by that cute nose scrunch he always does. You touch his forearm as you lean up and kiss the bridge of his nose, the location of his nose scrunch; it kills you every time.

  
You both apparently had worked up quite the appetite because you both ate almost all the food that Frank ordered. As you ate, you asked Frank to tell you about what exactly his plan was in Philadelphia; he shared with you some of the details but not all of them. He still did not like you to know too much, for your own safety.

  
After you both finished one pot of coffee, you cuddled together on the bed.

  
You’re on your side, head resting on his bicep, his hand wrapped around and gently combing through your hair. His other hand was laced with yours, resting on his chest. You had one leg nestled between his.

  
“This weekend isn’t just two amazing days for you to say goodbye to me, is it?”

  
Frank turns his head to look at you, confusion on his face, “What do you mean?”

  
“As incredible as this is, it also almost has an ominous feeling attached. Almost like you think you’re not making it back,” you can barely get the words out because the thought of that happening is too much.

  
You feel his chest rise and fall as he sighs, “I never know if I’m gonna make it back, but I fight like hell to try to.”

  
You don’t say anything in response, but he feels something wet hit his arm and he knows you’re crying.

  
His heart feels like it’s in a vice when he feels that tear drop hit his skin. He instantly turns his body to face you, your head still on his arm, he caresses your cheek, “Hey, shh, shh.”

  
He wipes the few stray tears from your skin, “I promise that this is not me saying goodbye. You give me a future to actually hope for, so I’ll do what I have to in order to make it back to you.”

  
You nod and manage to whisper, “I’m sorry.”

  
He kisses your nose, “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He gently pulls your head into his chest, kissing your hair.

  
You enjoy the feeling of his arms around you; you try to burn the feeling into your memory in the slim chance that he actually may not make it back to you.

  
After a couple of minutes, you place a few small kisses on his chest, “Feel like a shower?”

  
He kisses your forehead, “Let’s go.”

  
Frank sheds his sweatpants before he even gets to the bathroom. Once inside, he grabs the hem of his shirt you’re wearing and lifts it up and over your head. You take off your panties and you take his hand, getting into the shower with him.

  
You let his hand go to turn the water on; he sweeps your hair from the nape of your neck and kisses you there. “Here,” he delicately starts to gather your wet hair in his hand; you shiver at his light touches.

  
He kisses your shoulder, then reaches for the shampoo. He pours some into his hand and lathers up your hair. He gently massages your scalp with his fingertips as he works the shampoo into your hair. He puts his hands on your hips as he switches places with you.

  
With your back to the water, Frank stands close in front of you and runs his hands through your hair, rinsing the shampoo out. You kiss his chest and his neck. You know your hair is rinsed when he gently tugs your hair so your head leans back; he tenderly skims his teeth against your throat, then places small, loving kisses there.

  
When he lets your hair go, you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. He leans down slightly to run his hands up and down the back of your thighs. You lean against the wall as you pull away slowly. You kiss his jawline as you start stroking his length. You feel his body tense at the first touch then instantly relax as you continue.

  
His eyes close for a couple seconds as a moan escapes his lips. He moves one hand against the wall, next to your head; he hangs his head a little as the intensity of pleasure increases. You duck your head down and kiss him, lifting his head back up as you do so. He deepens the kiss, his other hand cupping your cheek.

  
As you pump him faster, he starts emitting small growls of pleasure every so often, sometimes into the kisses. It makes you want him even more if that’s possible.

  
He pulls away from the kiss as he feels himself almost there. You kiss his neck and playfully bite at his jaw which is just the little push he needs because he releases soon after. He immediately kisses you passionately, his hands gripping your hips. You wrap your arms around his neck. You two continue to make out for a few minutes.

  
When you feel the water starting to get cold, you both finish washing up.

  
When you step out of the shower, Frank grabs a nearby towel and holds it open for you. You smile and walk into it, he instantly wraps the towel and his arms around you, kissing you. You take the towel from his grasp and move it around so it’s tucked together in the front.

  
You blow dry your hair quickly so it’s halfway dry. Frank wraps a towel around his waist, and pulls you close when you’re finished.

  
You wrap your arms around his torso and kiss the few bruises and healing cuts he has on his chest. He smooths your hair back and watches as you kiss him; he kisses the top of your head.

  
You both walk out of the bathroom, you taking a seat on the edge of the bed as Frank walks over to the foot of the bed and bends down. He picks your bra up off the floor and rubs the fabric between his fingers, “I do love this by the way.”

  
You raise your eyebrow, “On me or the floor?” you repeat his statement from yesterday.

  
“Both.” He walks over to you and you look up at him; he grasps your chin tenderly and leans down, kissing you. You smile into the kiss.

  
__  
SUNDAY

Frank’s on top of you, sinking into you with a leisurely pace. Neither of you are looking to hurry; it’s your last time together for several weeks.

  
He kisses the skin around both your breasts, always sweeping his tongue across the nipple. You arch your back into him, hands in his hair. He places small kisses in the middle of your breasts and works his way up until he reaches your lips.

  
He puts his hand on your neck, your ear between his thumb and index finger, and kisses you slowly. You rub your feet up and down his calves while he continues moving between your legs. You raise your hips to push into his every so often, a new wave of pleasure surging through you both.

  
He pulls away ever so slowly then follows it up with several short kisses.

  
He presses into you a little harder than before and you lean your head back. He grazes his nose across your throat before kissing it. You dig your nails into his back as he presses into you again, a moan slipping out between your lips.

  
Frank takes his time as he makes love to you. You run your hands over every inch of him, memorizing his body.

  
Afterwards, you’re leaning over him, hand running up and down his chest and stomach. He gently sweeps your hair to one side before pulling you down to kiss him. As his hands move to your face, he deepens the kiss. You barely break away from him when he suddenly sits up and gently lays you down, so he’s the one now leaning over you.

  
He pushes up on his arms so he’s hovering over you. You wrap your hands around his forearms, caressing them up and down slowly. You see the amorous way Frank is looking at you and you can’t help but blush.

  
You slide your hands up his arms, over his shoulders, and up to cup his face. You brush your thumbs over his ears before gently pulling him down to you.

  
You glance over his face before placing kisses on every single bruise and cut he has on it. He closes his eyes as he accepts your tender kisses. You brush your lips over his eyelids and place your last kiss on his forehead.

  
“Frank…” you whisper, sweetly nudging his nose with your own.

  
He opens his eyes and looks into yours.

  
“…I love you.”

  
__  
MONDAY

You wake up and you notice his absence from the bed right away.

  
Last night, you had checked out of the hotel and both of you came back to the apartment. Frank had gathered his things for his trip and you remember him being next to you when you fell asleep.

  
You sit up and look over to his side to see a folded piece of paper on his pillow, your name written on it.

  
“No” you whisper to yourself as you pick it up.

 

_I’m sorry. If I’d said goodbye to you, I might not have ever left. Please stay safe. I’ll see you soon. I love you. –Frank_

 

“Damn it, Frank!” You cry softly. Deep down though, you know he’s right; it would have been too hard to say goodbye.

 

For the first couple of weeks, you find yourself staying up as long as possible. You listen for any sound that may indicate he was back, but as time went on you knew you needed to continue on like normal. So you did.

  
Months later, you’re walking up the stairs to your apartment when you notice under your door, the light is on inside. You then see what looks like the shadow of someone’s feet walk by.

  
You don’t know how you knew, but you did. “Frank” you whisper to yourself.

  
You rush to open the door and when you walk in, there he is.

  
You had imagined this moment; how you’d throw yourself at him and pepper his face with kisses. What you didn’t expect was to be so overcome with emotion at seeing him again that you just stood there, hand covering your mouth, as you let out a quiet sob.

  
He was more beat up than when you last saw him and he had grown a beard, but he was alive.

  
He’s in front of you within seconds of you walking inside. You wipe some tears away right before his hands are softly grasping your face.

  
“Hey beautiful” he says with a small smile.

  
He’s home.


	11. Hangover

“Oh my god”, you groan. You throw your arm over your eyes, the sun’s not even out, but just the lights in the apartment are blinding to you.

“Welcome back to the world.” You hear a husky voice say from across the room with a chuckle.

Frank.

“Shhh” you whisper, eyes still covered.

You hear footsteps approach, followed by the sound of the light switch being flipped. The slivers of light you see go dark.

“Better?”

You move your arm and nod slowly, “Thank you.”

Frank hands you a cup of coffee which you sit up and take gratefully. He sits on the edge of the bed next to you.

As you take a sip, he combs his hand through your hair, “You remember anything from last night?” He asks with a smirk.

‘Last night?’ you think to yourself. You look outside at the night sky, “I’ve been out since last night?!” You can’t believe you were _that_ drunk.

Frank caresses your cheek briefly with the back of his finger, “Yeah. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t check to make sure you were still breathing a couple of times.”

“How bad was I?” You have no memory of what happened. You only know you were celebrating a friend’s birthday and you…you had called Frank. Oh my god, you drunk dialed Frank.

“…oh my god. I called you.” You say before he has a chance to answer your question. You bury your face in your hands causing him to chuckle. He kisses the top of your head.

“You did. You asked me to come get you because you were tired.“

“I’m so sorry.” The man can’t be seen in public and you asked him to come get your drunk ass. He’s a good guy so you know he came for you.

Frank just shrugs, “It was dark. Threw on a baseball cap, kept it low. Didn’t seem to be a problem.”

“You should have just left me there. Not worth risking you getting caught.”

“Not worth risking something happening to you.” He counters.

Damn him for being so selfless and caring. You throw back the comforter and move onto his lap. You wrap an arm around his neck and grip his bicep, kissing his cheek.

He wraps his arms around you, “Now, I’m more curious if you remember what happened when we got back here.”

You shake your head, “Oh god, tell me.”

He grins, “Well first you picked up one of the guns I had out on the table…”

“What?!”

“…I took _that_ away from you…"

"What the hell is wrong with me?“ He is just loving your reaction.

“Well apparently you wanted to use it as a prop to do your impression of me.“ Your embarrassed and shocked reaction entertains the shit out of him. He can’t stop laughing.

"I’m afraid to even ask."

"Well you used a deep voice, naturally, and you started to say something along the lines of ‘I’m Frank Castle, look how hot and handsome I make bruises look. Look how jacked I am.’” he deadpans with a smirk.

You bury your face in his shoulder before he even finishes, shaking your head against him, “No, no, no”

“Oh yes.”

You groan, lifting your head and propping your elbow up on his shoulder as you put your hand to your forehead. You look at him, “Then what happened?”

He smiles at the memory, “Then you started touching the bruises and cuts on my face and my arms, asking if they hurt and if I wanted you to kiss them to make them better.”

You blush hard and his words bring back the faint memory of you kissing the bruises on his face, “…which I did.”

“Which you did.” He repeats your statement, kissing you softly.

When you pull away, you take his face in your hands, “When did I pass out?”

He pecks your lips, “Right after that. You told me that you hoped you made me feel better and how much you love me. Then you hugged me and passed out on my shoulder…" He brushes a strand of hair out of your eyes, ”…so I carried you to bed and now here we are.“

You look at him and kiss him, "I do love you, so much. Especially for taking care of me like that.”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” he kisses your cheek, “because I love you too.”

You kiss him before asking, “So did it help? Kissing your bruises?” you tease with a smile. You kiss the bruise by his eye and the cut on the bridge of his nose.

He smiles softly. You kiss the bruise on his jaw and the one on his hairline.

“Always."


	12. Little Visitor

There’s a knock at your door at 12:30 in the morning. Frank is out but he always comes back through the window, never the door.

You go to grab the metal baseball bat under your bed when you hear him say “It’s me” through the door.

You rush over and open it. Frank is standing there, obviously holding something under his jacket.

“I’ll explain when I get back.” He says swiftly as he opens his jacket to reveal a sleeping baby girl. She can’t be more than seven or eight months old. Dressed only in a diaper, that you can smell is soiled, she’s fast asleep against The Punisher’s chest.

He hands her over to you with such care, “I’m gonna go get some supplies.”

And with that, he’s already stalking down the hallway to the stairs.

You are completely lost and obviously full of questions.

The baby stirs and immediately starts crying. You panic. You haven’t held a baby since you were a child, holding your newborn cousin for a photo op.

You figure the soiled diaper is probably not something she wants to sit in so you make the decision to tackle that first.

You hold her with one arm, under her bottom, as you grab a roll of toilet paper and some towels. You grab a bowl and fill it up with warm water.

You bring everything to the kitchen table before laying a towel on it and gently laying the baby on the towel. You take a deep breath before taking off her diaper; the smell hits you instantly. Thank god you’ve had dogs before so the smell of poop doesn’t make you gag.

You quickly start wiping the majority of it with toilet paper since you figure you can just flush it. When most of it’s been wiped away, you dip some paper towels into the warm water and start cleaning the remnants away until she’s all clean. She’s finally quieted down.

With Frank not back yet, you don’t have a new diaper to put on her. You keep a hand on her tiny belly, so there’s no chance she rolls off, and you stretch your whole body to reach the blanket on the back of the couch. You manage to grab it and you wrap her in it before holding her to your chest again.

You start delicately bouncing her in your arms and rubbing her back. You begin singing to her quietly when you hear a knock on the door. You find Frank on the other side, holding several bags of baby supplies.

“How did you…” but he answers you before you even get the question out.

“Had to do a smash and grab. Left a few hundred on the counter to make up for it.“

You nod before asking the obvious, “And how did you acquire a baby?“

Frank takes off his jacket and vest, hanging them on the back of a kitchen chair. "You know how tonight I was taking care of those shitbricks who’ve been making that tainted heroin? I get there, do what needs to be done, and I hear a baby crying. Found her in a back room, her mother dead next to her from an overdose.” He says it with sadness for this little beautiful girl.

You look down at her on your chest. She’s awake, looking at Frank, but quiet.

“I think she likes hearing your voice.” You tell him as you look back at him. You see the slightest hint of a smile appear on his face. He walks over to you and softly brushes the knuckle of his index finger against her cheek.

“What are we going to do about her?” You nuzzle your nose against her soft hair, placing a light kiss on her head.

Frank smiles softly at your interaction with her, “Figure I’ll drop her off at CPS when it opens in a few hours.”

You nod slowly, eyes on her.

You look up at him, “I can’t get over how small she is. I’m almost afraid to be holding her."

You watch as Frank’s large hand, the back covered in dried blood and scabs, ever so gently smooths over this little girl’s head. The image causes you to swallow a lump that’s formed in your throat; you imagine Frank doing this with his own kids when they were born.

"You’re doing great with her,” he tells you. “Thanks for helping me with this."

"Like I’d turn a baby away, or you for that matter.” You give him a smile. He kisses your cheek.

“I cleaned her up while you were gone. But I admit I’m not sure how to put a diaper on."

Frank chuckles, "It’s easier than you think. I’ll take care of it.” He takes her from your arms and she instantly makes a tiny fist as she holds onto his shirt. You watch as he places his other hand on the back of her head and lays her down gently on the towel you still have laid out on the table. You hand him a new diaper and watch as he effortlessly puts it on her. She claps her little hands together and giggles causing Frank to smile bigger than you’ve ever seen. Your heart can’t take the sight, it’s all too sweet.

“That better, sweetheart?” He tickles her belly, getting another giggle out of her. You laugh too this time. He picks her back up and rubs her back. You find the formula he got and you start warming it up. As you wait, you watch them. She touches all over his face. She pokes his nose, which you can tell is freshly injured, and he doesn’t make a sound about it. She drools a little and he just wipes it away with his thumb, wiping his thumb on his jeans. You watch with a smile as Frank kisses her tiny cheek.

You don’t realize your eyes welled up until you feel a tear roll down your cheek. You quickly wipe it and turn around to face the counter so he doesn’t see. You should have known better.

You feel him stand next to you, “Hey, you alright?"

"Yeah, I’m good.” You don’t look at him and you try to wipe a tear by acting like you’re scratching your cheek, but it’s hopeless.

His hand brushes the hair from your face, “You’re crying."

You finally look at him and he wipes a tear from under your eye. The baby girl is still enamored by Frank and his face. He pulls you into the other side of his chest and kisses your hairline. You sigh and rub his side before stepping back,

"Just seeing you with her, I can’t help but imagine you like this with…with Lisa as a baby.” You feel bad even saying it out loud, especially when more tears slowly roll down your face.

You notice his own eyes well up, “I know. She makes me think of both my kids,” he whispers as he looks at her. You wipe your tears and grasp his chin sweetly as you kiss his cheek first, then the corner of his eye where one tear threatened to fall. He grips your hip. You rub his forearm before checking on the formula.

“You want to feed her?” He asks.

“Yeah." Frank shows you how to hold her in the crook of your arm as you hold the bottle with your other hand. As she takes the bottle in her mouth, one of her hands rests on yours.

"You are so beautiful sweetie,” You say to her.

“Hey, come here.” Frank motions for you to follow him.

He takes a seat at the end of the couch and puts his arm on the back of it, motioning for you to sit next to him, “It’s easier to feed her if you sit down."

You slowly sit down with her. You lean against the side of his chest, his arm wraps around you and gently brushes his fingers against her soft hair. Frank can’t help but fall more in love with you as he watches you with her. He kisses your hair. When she finishes eating, Frank takes the bottle from you and puts it on the side table. You snuggle a little further into him as you move her so she’s laying on your chest.

He keeps his arm around you, his hand over yours that’s on her back. "You deserve to have this someday. A kid of your own.”

You know what he’s trying to say, that this is something he can’t give you. How you shouldn’t waste your time with him. It’s not the first time you’ve heard it from him and it won’t be the last.

You sigh quietly and turn your head a little so he can hear you, “And if I want you more than I want a baby?"

"You might be crazier than I am." You give a small laugh of disbelief. You lean your head back against his shoulder and look up at him, "Then call me crazy." He shakes his head with a low chuckle. He moves his hand to your throat, tenderly, to keep you still as he leans down and gives you a quick kiss upside down.

When you look back down, she’s fast asleep, "Frank, what should we do?" He looks over your shoulder and sees her sleeping. He pats your side signaling that he needs to stand up. You very slowly sit up, so careful not to wake her. When he can, he stands up and grabs some blankets. He arranges them on the bed into a little nest and waves you over.

You again, super slowly carry her to the bed. When you see what he’s made, you smile. You cradle her as best you can as you move her from your chest into the blanket nest. She stays asleep and Frank pulls the extra fabric of a blanket up to her chest. He lays down on his side next to her. He stretches his arm across the pillows and rests his head on his bicep. You too lay down on the other side of her, facing her. You lay your head on Frank’s open hand and you feel his fingers play with some strands of your hair.

"She’ll be okay like this?"

He nods, "The crib for Lisa got delivered late so her first night home, Maria and I did this. I didn’t tell her til later on, but I stayed up all night to make sure Lisa was alright."

You watch him as he speaks of his family, as his eyes look at the little sleeping girl but are almost glazed over, lost in a memory. You turn to kiss his palm, and rest your hand on his forearm, next to your face. His other hand rests on the blanket thats over her little legs. As you feel yourself start to drift asleep, you reach out, placing your hand on his. The last thing you feel is Frank’s thumb hook with yours.

—

You feel a hint of movement across your forehead, followed by the same feeling across your cheek.

"Baby, wake up." Frank is leaned over the little girl, kissing your face. His other hand is still under your head.

You open your eyes and notice it’s still dark out. You realize you’re still on his hand and you sit up, now face to face with him.

"I’m sorry” you whisper, kissing him.

“Don’t be,” he gives you a quick kiss. The clock reads 4:00am.

“They open at 5 but I gotta get there while it’s still dark. Too suspicious, guy looking like this carrying a baby." He tells you he’s going to jump in the shower real quick. You watch over her as she still sleeps. You lightly kiss her forehead and touch her chin with your fingertip. Truth is, you only want a baby if it was with him. Just watching him with her was one of the most pure things you’ve ever witnessed.

All of a sudden, while still asleep, she reaches her tiny hand out and holds onto two of your fingers.

You smile softly and bend down, kissing her hand, "You’ll be okay peanut. We’ll make sure of it." You never heard the shower turn off, never realized Frank was watching you. He doesn’t let on that he was. He walks over to you, dressed.

You throw your hair up in a messy bun and throw on some clean clothes. Frank takes magazines out of the small wicker basket you keep them in. He grabs some towels and a blanket, filling it up with them. You pick her up and place her in the basket, covering her with another blanket so she doesn’t get a chill from the cool night air. Frank wraps his arms around the basket, carrying it as you grab the bag with the rest of the baby supplies he took.

You both walk in silence as you make your way to CPS headquarters. You gather in the alleyway next to their side door as you wait for it to hit 5am. Frank continues holding the basket, refusing to even put it on top of the dumpster lid for a quick rest. The poor thing must have been so tired, because she’s still managed to stay asleep. You wonder just how long she was crying next to her dead mother before Frank found her. The thought breaks your heart.

Frank’s voice interrupts your train of thought.

"I can’t promise you anything. Especially a family. But know that if it did happen, if we ever do have a kid…” He looks at her tiny sleeping form before looking at you, “…I’m gonna love that baby with everything I’ve got." He has no idea how much that means to you.

You kiss him softly, "So will I."

All of a sudden you both hear someone around the corner. Hear them open the front door to the building. You both share a glance as Frank gently puts the basket down next to the door.

You give a sad smile as you crouch down next to the basket, "You’ll be okay,” you say, more to convince yourself. You kiss her cheek and stand up.

Frank crouches down next, he runs his hand over her head and kisses her nose. He looks up at you and takes the bag of supplies, settling it down next to the basket. He takes an envelope from his jacket and places it next to her. The envelope contains a note he wrote, explaining where she was found and requesting that the few hundred dollar bills inside go to whatever she needs. Frank gives the door three quick, loud knocks.

You both move quickly around the corner; out of sight but within earshot. You hear as the door opens and a sweet, female voice coos over the baby. “I’d say we’ll take good care of you, but it seems someone already has.” She says fondly to the baby.

At the woman’s remark, you slide your hand into Frank’s, his fingers lacing with yours.


	13. End of the Tunnel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra thank you to Taylor for helping me sort this one out <3

A few drops of water trail down your arm as you take the wet glass from Frank, drying it with a dish towel.

Frank is standing in the tiny kitchen of your apartment with his sleeves pushed up, sink filled with soapy water, washing the dishes from dinner.  You’re sitting atop of the counter, right next to him; as he finishes washing, he hands the item to you to dry. 

It’s all very domestic which isn’t lost on you.  You enjoy these simple moments with him.

When the last item is dry, you hop down.  Frank unplugs the sink to drain the water and rinses his hands of the soap suds; you walk behind him, trailing your fingers across his lower back as you pass. 

Frank lifts his eyebrow, glancing at you with a small smile as you move.

You move to the other side of him and start a pot of coffee. 

Frank dries his hands on the dish towel before tossing it onto the counter.  You feel his warm hand on your hip first, then you feel his chest pressed against your back as he leans into you, arm reaching up to the shelf above you, grabbing two coffee mugs. 

You smile to yourself at his touch.  This is where you two are at.  The intimate touches have grown more frequent.  You don’t even remember when they started, but you both kept them up until it just became normal.  But that’s where it ends. 

Frank has never kissed you. He’s never been more intimate with you than the touches.  He sticks to sleeping on the couch every night despite you’re insistence that he sleep next to you. 

_You take his hand, “Sleep in the bed with me, Frank. It’s okay.”_

_He squeezes your hand before letting go, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”  He glances away from you when he speaks._

_Every time. You can’t help but sometimes feel like you’re the only one missing something here.  You can tell he feels something for you so to be rejected with no explanation, it makes a girl wonder, “Just tell me, is it me?”_

_The fact that you even felt it necessary to ask such a question ruins Frank.  If he could only explain to you how it’s never you, you’re never the problem – he is, he always is._

_“You really think it is?” the sadness and disbelief in his voice is hard to miss._

_You promised yourself you’d be understanding with him.  This man went through something more traumatic and destroying than most people will ever go through, he deserves patience if nothing else.  However, you’re still a woman.  Women crave intimacy beyond a fleeting touch._

_You look at him, his hands at his sides, his eyes looking right into you.  You just shrug in defeat, “…sometimes I do.”_

_He just barely hears you as you quietly murmur those words.   He takes a small step towards you, but stops himself.  He grabs the back of the kitchen chair instead and drops his head.  You stand still, waiting, hoping for him to say something.  You get your wish when he lifts his head, his dark eyes finding yours once again, “You couldn’t be more wrong.”_

He places the two mugs on the counter in front of you as you feel the hand on your hip slide forward to your stomach.  The hand that was holding the mugs, now rests on the edge of the counter, essentially trapping you between him and it.

You feel the breath hitch in your throat as you can feel his breath on your ear. You slowly slide your hand over and on top of his; the scabs of his knuckles rough against the smooth skin of your palm.  

His nose finds the tip of your ear and nudges it ever so gently.  

His thumb runs back and forth on your own. 

It’s a constant worry of yours that you’ll scare him away. That you’ll touch him just a little too intimately or you’ll caress him at the wrong moment, and he’ll have some silly realization that he shouldn’t be letting himself take part in such a loving act causing him to run.

It’s a door slam. That’s what spooks him.  You both hear it from somewhere in the hallway outside.  The noise snaps him out of whatever happiness he almost allowed himself.   

Where his hand was on your stomach, the spot is now cold.  You no longer feel his breath on your ear.  He slips his hand out from under yours. The small sound of your hand connecting with the counter is heard throughout the apartment.

You don’t turn around to look at him, you take a second to collect yourself.  You wonder if anything will hurt as much as him tearing himself away from you like that.  Tears start pricking at the corners of your eyes.

You pour the coffee into the two cups and turn around, handing him one.

His fingers unintentionally brush against yours as he takes the mug from your grasp.  You make sure that it’s you who pulls away first, see how he likes it. It’s petty but your heart hurts.

He dips his head just slightly, trying to see your face as you keep it turned just enough from his view. 

He wants nothing more than to be able to hold you and kiss you, but there’s still that part of him that is afraid to let anyone in _that_ close.  The fear of that person disappearing from his life is too much to think about, especially if it was you.

As always, your love for him makes you shove your hurt feelings down deep.  The last people who were close to him were taken from him in one single moment. You were not going to push him away just so you can get a moment of respite.  You end up giving his forearm a light squeeze as you pass by him.  An indication that you understand and you’re still here.   

His eyes close in that brief moment of you touching his arm.

_You are never the problem. It’s always me._

You hear his mug get placed on the table.  You hear as he picks up his jacket off of the chair and put it on.  You hear as your own door shuts behind him.

It’s not the first time he’s done that. Just like it’s not the first time you’ve cried when he’s left.

__

You hear something in your sleep. Movement of some sort. You hear low grunts and grumbling. It’s enough to make you investigate. 

All you do is sit up and you find the source. Frank. 

You have no idea what time he slipped back in, but he’s asleep on the couch, obviously in the throes of a nightmare. 

You hesitate for a minute, just watching as his legs kick slightly and his hand makes a fist.  You slowly get up, afraid to startle him with a sudden noise. 

Your bare feet slowly and quietly move heel to toe as you carry yourself over to the couch.  The streetlights illuminate enough of his face for you to see his knitted eyebrows and slight frown. 

Now that you’re close enough, you’re able to decipher some of his mumbles and they destroy you. 

“I’m here. Daddy’s here.“ 

_‘I’m here! Daddy’s here!’ Frank yells to his crying son. His son who’s been shot in the stomach, his insides spilling out of him. There’s Maria, his gorgeous wife, lying next to Frank, Jr. Her hand hopelessly trying to stop the bleeding from her neck.  Her other hand is gripping little Frank’s sleeve._

You instantly feel the tears start to form. His family. He’s dreaming about his family. 

_Frank frantically looks around and spots the body of his daughter. ‘No…NO!” He crawls on all fours, trying to keep low as the gunfire continues.  He touches her lifeless arm first. Her skin is cool, too cool for a July afternoon.  His eyes roam from her small, sandal covered feet to her sunshine yellow dress up to her face…what was her face._

“No!” It comes out low; you have no idea that in his nightmare he’s yelling it. 

_“No! Lisa! I’m here sweetie, Daddy’s right here with you.’   A small part of him knows it’s stupid for him to be talking to her. His little girl’s face doesn’t exist anymore; she can’t hear him. He wonders if the last thing she saw was her mother and brother bleeding out._

You wipe a tear from under your eye before gently sitting on the edge of the couch, next to his hip. You put your hand on his bare stomach and shake him a tiny bit, “Frank,” you whisper. 

_He doesn’t know what to do. He wants to keep cradling his baby, cradling her like he did when she first came into this world. But he sees his wife and son dying a few feet away. He doesn’t know who to go to._

Nothing.

You’re nervous, you can feel yourself trembling, unsure of what state he’ll be in when he wakes. 

You shake him a little harder, “Frank,” a little stronger this time. 

_“Frank!” He faintly hears it and immediately looks to his wife. It can’t be her - blood is pooling in her mouth._

“Frank!” You try again as tears fall from your face. There’s pain written all over his features and you can’t bear to see him like this.  

_“Frank!” He hears it again. He sees Maria, mouthing his name, her eyes locked with his._

You shake him again and say it louder, “Frank! Wake up!“ 

He sits up in an instant. You quickly put a hand on his collarbone to stop him from going any further; you’re face to face with him. You see his eyes, wild with worry and fear, dart around the room. 

His chest heaves as sweat beads on his forehead. His large hand grips the back of the couch, his other is gripping your knee. 

You quickly wipe your tears and slide your hand up to the side of his neck as your other rests on his thigh. His eyes finally meet yours and you watch as he recognizes you. 

You watch as he realizes that his family is still dead. 

You watch as his tears spill. 

His face crumbles as he whispers with such despair, "I still didn’t save them.”

Your eyes cloud with more tears as you quickly pull him into you, hugging him. You feel his arms desperately wrap around you, squeezing you as if you might disappear. 

You feel his tears hit the crook of your neck. His shoulders shake with each quiet sob.

Your hand goes to the back of his head and you pull back to kiss the side of his face every couple minutes. 

He shifts, with you still in his arms. He moves so you’re both laying on the couch, on your sides. His leg drapes over yours. You gently comb your fingers through his short hair as you both continue to cry. 

–

You wake up in your own bed and you quickly remember what happened last night. You probably would have cried at the memory if you had any tears left. 

You remember being on the couch with Frank. Your heart aches at the realization that he must have carried you to the bed; did he realize he was so close to you and he needed space?

You hear the shower going which means he hasn’t left like you thought. You run a hand through your hair before deciding to go make coffee. 

As you stand at the counter, mindlessly watching the coffee drip, you hear the shower shut off.  You stand up a little straighter, your tummy doing flips. 

Frank has never been as vulnerable as he was last night. You can already feel how awkward it will probably be. 

A couple minutes after the water turns off, you hear the bathroom door open. You sneak a glance over your shoulder and see him rubbing the towel over his damp hair. He’s dressed in only his black cargo pants. His dog tags clatter against each other as his body moves.  You quickly turn back towards the coffee machine; you curse yourself because you feel your cheeks heating up. 

“Hey." 

You take a quick deep breath before turning around at his words, "Hey." 

"I, uh, put you back in your bed just before. Figured you’d be more comfortable there." 

Just before? So he did keep you next to him all night. 

You give him a small smile, "Thanks." 

He walks over to you until he’s right in front of you, "Last night…” he starts softly, but you cut him off. 

“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to." 

He doesn’t break eye contact, "I want to." 

You give him a small nod as you wait for him to continue. You can’t help but glance at his chest where you see a few scars left over from your past stitch ups. 

"I haven’t had anyone…you know…be there for me like that, since…”  He quietly trails off at the end, but you know what he means - since his wife. 

You bow your head slightly, wondering where this conversation might head. 

You see his arm come up and feel his finger touch the bottom of your chin. He gently tilts your face back up so he can look at you. 

“Just…,” his eyes never leave yours, “…you’re truly something else. I hope you know how special you are.” His hand drops from your chin. 

You’re embarrassed by his sweet words and look away again.  As you blush, you go to turn back around. 

But he grips your hip, turning you back to him. His other hand cups your jaw as you feel his lips, his soft lips, on yours. 

When he pulls away, his forehead rests against yours. Your hand is still on his chest. You feel his heart racing. 

You place your other hand on the other side. Frank pulls his head away and looks at you. 

All you’ve wanted was for him to kiss you. You’ve wanted him to step over that invisible line for so long. That’s why you can’t believe that you’re going to question it. 

You take a second before looking at him, as you open your mouth to speak, he cuts you off. Because he knows you, knows what you’re thinking. 

“Don’t. I’m not confused, I’m not emotional. I did that because I wanted to. I kissed you because I’ve _been_ wanting to." 

Your hands slide up and rest low on his neck.

He tenderly grips your forearms at his chest, "Thank you, for last night. For staying with me. Seeing your face,” he brushes his thumb over your cheek, “after waking up from that…it was like the light at the end of a tunnel." 

You blush and softly smile as move your hands to lovingly grasp his face to pull him close again. You nuzzle his nose with your own. He closes his eyes at your touch. 

You place a kiss between his eyebrows and lightly trail the tip of your nose down his, before placing a sweet kiss to his lips, "Stay with me tonight,” you whisper against him. 

He opens his eyes at your words. ‘Not on that damn couch again’ he knows you’re thinking.

He grazes his hands from your wrists down your arms to your shoulders, a hint of a smile on his lips. 

“You’ll keep the nightmares away?” He asks almost genuinely, a slight tone of jest mixed in as a deflection. He softly brushes some hair from your face. 

You match his sincerity, “I promise to try.” You never want to see his face wrecked with such pain ever again. 

Frank’s smile, in response to your promise, will always be one of your favorite things. 

You bring your lips to his, kissing him again.  As your hands move to his torso, you feel his cup your face, holding you close.  When you two finally pull away, the only reason was to catch your breath.

You smile with rosy cheeks before turning around to the counter. 

You feel Frank’s warm hand on your hip and his chest pressed against your back as he slowly reaches up to the shelf above you, grabbing two coffee mugs. 

After putting the mugs down, he wraps both arms around you from behind. You place a hand over his arms as you pour the coffee. 

He kisses your shoulder, then the back of your head.

You hear a door slam somewhere in the hallway. 

Frank pulls you closer. 


	14. The Man Next to You

The streetlights outside cast shadows along the walls of your small New York City apartment.

Every few minutes the ceiling is illuminated by the headlights of passing cars down below, the light refracting off the numerous windows and store fronts that fill this city that never sleeps.

But one person has managed to find slumber in this town. The man lying next to you.

Frank Castle.

A broken, gentle, vengeful, loving, man.

Heat radiates off his bare chest, creating a pocket of warmth for you under the comforter. Something you much appreciate on this chilly night.

Your bodies face each other. His arm is draped over your hip and his hand spans almost your entire back; that’s where it rests.

His hands are scarred. His knuckles scabbed. His fingertips always slightly calloused from his constant maintenance of weaponry. Most would say they’re the hands of a brute, a savagely violent person.

But they aren’t. Not really.

Those are the hands that caress your face every night. They grasp your face with such tenderness, as if you’re made of glass, as if any force would cause a single crack. Those are the hands that gently weave their way into your hair when he cuddles with you.

Your eyes trail to his bruised, handsome face.

Even in sleep, he looks broken. His eyebrows just slightly furrowed, he mouth set firm.

He’ll never find real peace.

Your lips press against the lines between his eyebrows, lingering for a second. When you pull away, it’s as if you erased them. His face seems to have relaxed.

His face is littered with bruises that resemble inkblots. Like some weird version of a Rorschach test. Several are embraced by their own halo of yellow as they heal, only to make room for a brand new one.

You lightly trace your fingertip around a couple. The only indication of disturbance is a slight squint of his eye that reveals those crinkles that like to hang out at the corner. The ones that show up when a smile breaks open on his face or when he winces as you slide a needle through his skin.

Some spots are pink and raw. Those are the newest cuts he gained tonight. They’ll scab, get torn open again, and re-scab several times before healing for good. One spot, above his eyebrow, has six black dashes along it. That’s your handiwork. You’ve come a long way from that first night he needed your help. You two even managed to fall in love somewhere in between.

His stubble is a little long. Enough for you to make out that he has some grey hair by his chin. You can make out a few small pieces of crusted blood that got stuck in the little hairs from his latest venture. They came from that cut on his lip.

His lips, his lips that somehow feel soft despite being slightly chapped. Those are the lips that kiss you every time he comes home. That kiss you every morning, every night, and every moment in between.

Above sits that god damn nose of his. He hates it, you love it. You’ve lost count how many times he’s pushed it back into place after being smashed, punched, and kicked. You will never get rid of the audible memory of hearing the bones slide into place as he does it. You also will never forget how he chuckles afterwards as he sees you squirm from the sight and sound. But that’s Frank. And you’ll never tell him, but if it makes him chuckle, even the smallest bit, you’ll sit through it a thousand times just so he can have that one second of reprieve from the war he constantly fights.

There’s a slight bump near the bridge. That’s a hot spot for leaving kisses. It’s also the spot where his nose scrunches whenever he takes a sip of coffee. Only coffee. Not that you’ve seen him drink much of anything else, but the few times he’s had water or a beer, you watched and no scrunch. You make sure you always have coffee ready just so you can see it.

You lean forward again, kissing that special spot. This time when you pull away, a pair of dark, brown eyes are staring back.

Eyes so dark, they can be mistaken as black. And maybe sometimes they are, when he’s in the midst of putting down the scum that creep in the shadows of the night; black eyes full of death.

But not now, not ever, not with you.

His stare is soft, loving. And there’s those crinkles again. The culprit? That smirk of his.

Now it’s _his_ lips on your skin. It’s _his_ lips brushing over your nose, _his_ lips against your cheek.

You live in the perfect place. The city that never sleeps.

Because who would want to sleep when you have a man like Frank Castle to look at.


	15. Comfort

This is a little ridiculous, sewing the holes in The Punisher’s shirt, you understand that.    
  
Sitting on the couch in one of Frank’s old Marines t-shirts, in the middle of the night, sewing the slash marks in his black tee. You don’t have to, you can always just go buy more, but you figure you could always use the practice for when you need to stitch _him_.  
  
The fabric is torn, frayed, and thin. It’s hard not to notice all the dried blood that stains it in various spots. Every single one makes your heart race as you think about how he’s out there right now.  
  
Lost in your thoughts you manage to prick your finger bad, drawing blood. Immediately, your fingertip is in your mouth as you suck on it.  
  
The window is opened shortly after, Frank stepping inside, dropping his bag by the end of the bed.  
  
If he doesn’t touch you in some way, it’s been a rough night. That’s his tell.  
  
He’s bloodied and dirty. He looks rougher than normal. His eyes land on you, eyebrows knitting together as the corners of his mouth turn down slightly, “You okay?”  
  
That’s the man you wish Frank realized he was. The man who has just been in the middle of a savage fight, but the second he sees his lady in just an ounce of pain, he questions if she’s the one that’s okay.  
  
You nod, “Yeah, it’s nothing.“  He watches you for a beat longer. He knows you downplay things so he watches to make sure.  
  
He walks to the closet, shrugging off his jacket.  He sits on the edge of the bed, propping his ankle on his knee as he unlaces his boot, pulling it off, then repeating it for the other one.  
  
He didn’t like telling you everything he was doing because he didn’t want it weighing on you.  But you being you, wanted to know. You’d press him gently and maybe 8 out of 10 times he’d cave. But whatever he went out to do tonight, he wouldn’t tell you.  
  
The silence on his plans usually means the victims are children or women. You usually read about it online in the following days. After you read those articles and read the kind of operations Frank has brought down, you’re always amazed. You’ll walk over to him, hugging him. If the city can’t properly thank him, you can.  
  
He mentions taking a shower as he passes by you.  
  
No kiss, no touch. Tonight wasn’t a good night.  
  
You watch as the bathroom door closes, staying open a crack. The shower starts up and it isn’t long before you see steam curling out from under the door.  
  
You don’t know why tonight is different, why you feel compelled to walk in there. Usually you leave him be, wait until he comes to you.  
  
You put his shirt aside and pad over to the bathroom door. You hesitate, just standing there.  
  
It’s silent, you don’t even hear him moving around in the shower.  
  
You put your palm to the door and push it open slowly. His clothes are in a pile by the sink, a few drops of blood scattered around.  
  
You don’t stop yourself as you grab the shower curtain edge and pull it back.  
  
He doesn’t jump, doesn’t flinch.  
  
He’s under the shower head, water cascading down his nude form. One hand is splayed against the tiled wall, supporting himself.  His head is bowed and he runs his other hand down his face.  
  
Water and blood swirl together towards the drain as the blood is chased away from his skin.  
  
He lifts his head up, out of the water’s direct path, turning it to look at you.  
  
You just stand there, hand still gripping the curtain, watching his eyes. His tired, sad eyes.  
  
He gives you a small movement of his head, a gesture indicating to join him.  
  
You take a small step back and grab the hem of his shirt you’re wearing, pulling it up and over your head. You slide your panties down your legs, stepping out of them.  
  
You can’t help but watch as his pupils grow with lust as he looks over your naked body.  
  
His hand is already reaching out and grabbing your hip as you take the first step in. He slides his hand further, wrapping his arm around your waist, and pulls you into his chest.  
  
He keeps his other arm where it is, holding himself up.  
  
You snake your arms around his torso and rest your face in the crook of his neck. He holds you so close, right up against him, that you feel his dog tags pressed against your sternum.

Neither of you say anything. It’s a quiet, comfortable silence. You comfort him by just being there.  

 You start placing small kisses on his neck, slowly running your hands up and down his back.  His wet stubble is against your temple as he turns his face towards you. You move from his neck to his jaw. He lifts his chin back up to give you more room. You taste copper as your lips brush over a cut on his face, but it doesn’t phase you.  

 He moves his face away from yours causing you to look up at him. He moves his hand from the wall to your cheek, and leans down slightly to meet you, kissing you softly. When he pulls away, he places his hand on the back of your head and pulls you close again. He just stands there, hugging you against him.  

 You feel the rumble within his chest as he finally speaks, low into your ear, “You’re the only good thing in this fucked up city."  

 You kiss his skin and just hug him back.  He kisses your head before resting his cheek against it.  His hand is splayed against your back, thumb skimming your skin.  

After a few minutes, you pull away. When you look down you notice blood on your stomach, but you immediately find the source as being the laceration from Frank’s own. He rubs his hand across your abdomen to rid your skin of the blood quicker.  

"I need to stitch this,” skimming your fingertips over his wound.  You begin running your hands over his skin, trailing along as you feel for any more injuries.  His biceps naturally flex under your touch as he makes small movements.  Just the  _thought_ of how much force and power he has in these arms is highly titillating.   

His hand reaches up and his fingertips brush down, between your breasts.  His face seems concentrated so you look down at what he sees.  

As his fingers move, you see it.  

Imprinted in your skin, sideways, is ‘Frank Castle’.  

The dog tags being pressed into your chest as he held you had temporarily marked you and somehow only his name managed to get transferred. Gliding your own fingers over it, you glance at him.  He stares at the spot in a trance.

“If I get lost, at least they’ll know who to call,” a small joke to try to bring him back. He looks into your eyes, so intense it almost feels like he can see right through you, “Except I don’t plan on ever losing you.”   

And you know right away that he’s talking about more than your little joke. 

“…I can’t.” he quietly adds, a small look of heartache etched on his face.  Sliding your hands up his arms, gliding over the slopes of his biceps, until you reach his broad shoulders, you squeeze lightly, “You won’t."  

 – 

 The next morning, Frank is still asleep when you get up. You put on a pot of coffee and scroll through your phone until you spot the news article headline. 

**Child Traffickers Found Brutally Murdered; Death by Punisher?**

After reading the article, you look over to where he sleeps. You put your phone on the table and make your way to his side of the bed.  

He’s on his stomach, one arm tucked under the pillow. His face is turned towards you and his other arm is resting on the pillow next to him.  

You lift his arm up and slide in under it. As he feels his arm being moved, he takes a deep breath through his nose and slowly opens his eyes. 

A smile appears at the sight of you.  As you slide in next to him, he turns onto his side a little to fit you against him better. The weight of his arm is now on your side as his hand finds its way under your shirt, caressing your back. 

You take his face in your hands, kissing him.  You feel the pressure of his hand on your back, pulling you closer into the kiss.

If the city can’t thank him properly, you can.


	16. Nightmare

A nightmare woke you up hours before you planned to. You had jolted awake, sweating, and honestly, with some tears in your eyes.

Frank was still out in the night and you felt colder not having him next to you. You closed your eyes to try and find sleep again, but the images from your nightmare were now burned into the inside of your eyelids.

You put your hand to your forehead and groan in exhaustion. As you playback the nightmare, your hand quickly moves to cover your mouth as a sob escapes you. Tears spill over as your mind catches up to your body’s response to the horror of it. You sit up and wrap an arm across your self as your body shakes with the cries.

After a few minutes, you start to calm down. You gasp for air a couple of times as your tears stop and your breathing evens out.

Maybe a bath will help. You stand up and pad into the bathroom, drawing a warm bath. You strip yourself of your pajamas and step into the tub. You get goosebumps as your skin touches the warm water.

A sigh of content leaves you as you sit down at the end of the tub. You draw your knees to your chest, arms wrapping around them, as you rest your chin atop them.

You come out of your thoughts as you hear the thud of Frank coming home. You listen as he takes off his jacket and vest, dropping them on a kitchen chair. His footsteps sound closer as a shadow falls over the crack of the door being open. He raps a knuckle on the door as he steps in.

He sees you sitting there, looking more vulnerable than ever, and his face grows concerned.

“Hey. Everything alright?” His voice is so soft and calming.

You look up at him. He has an open cut above his eyebrow with a trail of blood going down the side of his face. He definitely has a few new bruises to the other side of his head. His bare chest is a little red, no doubt from being kicked in the vest. And his knuckles, as always, are bleeding.

But he’s checking to see if everything with _you_ is okay.

You give him a small smile and nod. He knows instantly you’re lying; he knows you like the back of his hand. But he’s not gonna push you on it right now.

He returns your nod, and walks over, next to you. You lean your head back to look at him as he’s right above you now. He lays his hand on your throat as he leans down and presses a kiss to your lips. He pulls away, thumb brushing your neck, and looks at you before leaning down again to give you one more kiss.

As he goes to stand up, his hand letting you go, you grasp it in a handshake hold to stop him.

“I’ll help you with that.” You gesture your head to his eyebrow.

He moves your grasped hands, so the back of your hand is on top and he kisses the soft skin there.

“You stay there. I got it.”

He rubs your hand before letting it go and stands up. He turns his back to you as he faces the mirror. He takes out the first aid kit and threads the needle. You watch as he can’t seem to lift his arm high enough to start stitching…which is probably due to the massive bruise on his shoulder.

“Let me help you, please.”

He glances over his shoulder at you before grabbing a towel and taking a knee next to you so you don’t have to leave your bath.

You dry your hands on the towel and take the threaded needle from him. He rests one arm on the edge of the tub, next to you. His other arm is draped over into the water, his hand on your side under the surface.

You use one hand to push the skin together while you slide the needle through with your other. As usual, he doesn’t flinch - his eyes staying on you.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong?” He asks quietly.

You glance at him before focusing on the stitching again.

“It’s not a big deal. I’m okay now.”

Frank doesn’t like to push, but it’s hard not to when you care so deeply about the person. His hand grabs the wrist of your stitching hand causing you to pause and meet his stare.

You sighed quietly as you reveal, “It was just a nightmare that seemed more real than I could handle.”

If you say any more than that, you won’t be able to see through the tears to finish sewing him up.

His eyes bore deep into yours, most likely reading just how truly tormented you were by it. His hand lets your wrist go, brushing along your elbow as he lays it back on the edge of the tub.

You finish up the job, tying off the last stitch. He takes the needle from your hand as you reach for the towel. You dip the corner in the water before tenderly cupping his cheek. You hold him as you softly wipe away the trail of blood on his face.

He closes his eyes for a few seconds and you feel him lean into your touch. When you’re done, he opens his eyes just as you rest your forehead against his. He gently nudges his nose against yours causing you to smile.

“You got room for one more?” His growl of a voice asks against you.

“Only if you don’t mind holding me.” You reply, pulling away to kiss his cheek.

“That’s what I was counting on.”

He stands up and puts the needle and towel on the sink. You wait with anticipation as he undoes his belt and pants, taking them off, followed by his underwear.

You move towards the middle of the tub as he steps in, sitting down against the end you had just occupied. His arms are immediately around you, pulling you between his legs; your back against his chest.

He kisses your shoulder, then as you lean your head back against him, he turns to kiss your jaw. His hands are tucked under your thighs, thumbs against the sides, moving.

You move your body, turning to the side and draping your legs over the edge. Not even caring about dripping water onto the tiled floor.

He leans down kissing your knees that are now chest level with him.

“What happened here?” You kiss his bruised shoulder.

“Piece of shit tried to hide like a coward. I busted the door in.”

“We’ll have to ice it later.”

The day you two had become a ‘we’ was honestly one of the greatest days of his life. He doesn’t remember who had used it first, but he just knows his life had changed for the better.

Lips against your temple, he mumbles, “always takin’ care of me.”

“Just returning the favor.” Frank has taken care of you since the day you met him; even if he may not always realize he’s doing it. You’re thankful for him every day.

He’s kissing your neck when you just decide to share, “You died, Frank. That was the nightmare.”

He stops what he’s doing and looks at you. You glance between him and the water.

“You hadn’t come back by morning and I got worried. I had Matt help me try to find you and…and he did. We were too late…” and here come the tears you were talking about earlier, “…all I could think was how you had died all alone. How you deserved better than that. You deserved to have someone be there stroking your hair, holding your hand. And the hole I felt in my heart was…was absolutely devastating. I really felt like I had just lost the love of my life.”

You look at him, “And please don’t take this as me telling you to stop what you do, that’s not why I told you. I could tell you wanted to know and…” you had started to ramble, like you do when you can’t handle your emotions, when Frank gingerly grasps your chin, kissing you.

You two had already conveyed your love for one another. But to actually hear you call him ‘the love of your life’, well, that did things to his heart that he hasn’t felt in a very long time. Add in your sentiments of how broken you were about him dying alone and it just validated what he already knew…he gave his heart to the perfect woman.


	17. Home

You took up boxing a few weeks after Frank died. Matt had suggested it after Karen told him what a hard time you were having dealing with his passing. You had held out hope initially; they never found his body amid the debris from the boat explosion. As days passed and still no word from him, you finally realized he was actually gone; there was probably nothing left of his body to find. The pain that washed over you the moment you chose to believe that was debilitating. You stayed in bed for days, crying.

You had met Karen through Ben, your co-worker, before he was murdered. You two became fast friends which is why she trusted you with helping her dig into Frank’s past. She had asked you to break into his home (since you had experience breaking and entering when researched for your articles). You would have never ever thought that it would be the beginning of one bizarre love story between you and a vigilante.

Matt gave you keys to the boxing gym he uses, that way you can go by yourself when no one’s around. You didn’t really learn boxing, as much as punching and kicking the bag helped you deal with your emotions.

Frank had actually showed you the basics of throwing and blocking a punch once.

_“Legs apart like this, weight on your back leg so if you get hit, you don’t fall backwards on the first punch.”_

_You do as he instructs and smile to yourself as he touches your hips, guiding them._

_“Good. Alright, hands up.” He holds his fists up showing you the proper way; one near your face, one more forward._

_“Listen, I want you to throw everything you have into it, got it? If I ain’t around, I want you to give them a reason to still be scared.” He grins._

Who knew it would be sooner rather than later that he wouldn’t be around.

You just finished an hour of beating the bag. You feel horrible for admitting it, but sometimes you imagine it’s Frank’s chest. Just punching him, so angry that he got himself killed, that he left you.

It’s almost midnight, you prefer coming around after hours so you can be alone with your thoughts. You wipe the sweat from your forehead with your arm before unwrapping your hands. You then head into the locker room to shower.

Once you’ve washed the day from your body, you dry your hair and get dressed; a slightly oversized, yet comfy sweater, jeans, and your sneakers. You pick up your backpack by the handle on top, walking back into the gym to shut off the one or two lights you put on and lock up.

You freeze when you see him.

There’s Frank, standing several feet in front of you.

He has a short beard now. His hair is a little longer. But what really makes him almost unrecognizable is that his face doesn’t have a mark on it. Not one bruise, not one scratch.

You actually think you’re hallucinating until he speaks.

“God…” he breathes, “...if you aren’t the best thing I’ve seen.”

You don’t even realize you’ve dropped your bag until you jump a little when it hits the floor, eyes never leaving his.

He starts walking slowly towards you, like he’s afraid to startle you or you might run. As if showing up alive after months wasn’t startling enough.

“...How?..” you barely whisper.

“I hit the water right before the explosion. All the papers reported me dead, I realized that was probably for the best. The only downside was knowing you probably thought I was gone too.”

You know you’re crying. This can’t be happening, right?

“...Frank?” It’s really him?

He’s about a foot away from you now.

“It’s me, I promise.” His deep, gruff voice says low. How you’ve missed that rugged voice.

It’s really him.

You jump on him, arms holding his neck tight. He instantly has one arm around your back, holding you up, your feet off the ground. His other hand cradles your head against his shoulder.

You hear a sigh of relief from him as soon as you’re in his arms.

He feels your tears against his neck and he holds you tighter.

Without letting him go and through your quiet sobs, “I’m so freaking mad at you!”

Frank gives a small smile, “I know.”

You let him go and he follows your lead, putting you back on the ground. Looking at his handsome face, he sweetly wipes some tears from your cheeks. He then takes your face in his hands and presses his nose to your temple, breathing you in. You grab the front of his opened jacket, a hand gripping each side. As you happily take in the feeling of his face against your own, you can’t help but scold him.

“I thought you died, Frank!” Anger and sadness  
coming through; you push against his torso for emphasis (unsurprisingly, he doesn’t budge). Your voice grows softer as you add, “I was lost without you.”

His lips brush against your temple, “I’m so sorry.” And you know he’s sincere with how heartbroken he sounds.

You pull away enough to look at him, his hands never leaving your face.

“Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

His eyes follow a tear that falls down your cheek before his thumb catches it. Then his gaze meets yours, “It wasn’t safe. I couldn’t put you at risk no matter how much I fucking missed you.”

You close your eyes as he presses a kiss to your forehead. He drops his hands to wrap his arms around your waist, holding you close.

You run your fingertips over his cheek, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a bruise before…”

“Don’t get used to it.” He teases and you can’t help but give him your first smile since seeing him.

As he leans in, he whispers, “I missed that smile,” he slowly lays his mouth on yours, savoring every tiny moment of kissing you, for the first time in a long time. You gently grasp his face and a few more tears sneak out at finally having this moment that you never thought you’d have again.

When you both finally pull away, he rests his forehead against yours. You tenderly pet his beard.

“Tell me you’re not gonna leave again.”

“I’m not. It’s safe enough right now for me to come back home...if that’s okay?”

“Frank, all I’ve been wanting was for you to come home...of course it’s okay.”

His smile reaches his eyes. He leans down and scoops you into his arms, moving to sit on a bench with you now in his lap.

You finally notice that his knuckles look freshly bruised and scabbed. You run your fingers over them, “Your hands still look the same” you tease, looking at him.

“Can’t stay outta trouble apparently” he grins.

His hand is on your face again; he skims your skin gently with the back of his fingers followed by his thumb brushing against your cheek. He’s so gentle and so caring, it makes your heart ache at how much you missed this.

His voice lowers as he gets serious, “I checked on you, you know. Walked by your building at night, made sure you got home safe.”

“You could have run into trouble,” you rub his arm.  
“I don’t give a shit. Your life’s more important than mine.”

You press a kiss to his lips, “I love you.”

He closes his eyes, gently nudging his nose into your cheek, “...say that again. I can’t even tell you how much I missed hearing you say that.”

You smile and pull away from him so you can look at him. You place your hand on his chest, over his heart, “I love you, Frank.”

He kisses you, but pulls away briefly to whisper, “You have no idea how much I love you too.”

You pull away slowly only to hug him tight again. As he hugs you back, you feel his chest rumble against your own as he speaks.

“I visited Maria and the kids recently. Saw my name with theirs.” More tears start as soon as he starts talking about his family, your hand playing with the slight curls at the back of his head.

“That was you, yeah?” You hear a small break in his voice and feel his neck move as he swallows. He turns his face slightly, you feel his breath on the bottom of your neck as he asks, “You made sure I ended up with my family?”

When you hear his voice break you have to squeeze your eyes shut to stop any more tears from falling. All you can do is just nod against his shoulder.

You feel him squeeze you tighter, rubbing your back.

“That, uh, that couldn’t of been easy to get done.”  
Half the city hated him. They probably cheered upon hearing of his death. Ain’t no way requesting his name, a mass murderer, be added to his family’s headstone would be a simple thing.

“It was worth it. That’s all that matters.”

You feel his hands slide down your sides and you let him go to finally look at him. You see his eyes filled with unshed tears and you swallow the lump in your throat.

You watch as his eyes soften just a little more, “Thank you.”

You press a quick kiss to his lips in response then gently run your hand through his hair. His hands come up and wipe your tears for what feels like the hundredth time.

Now it’s you caressing his face and just looking at every part of him. You honestly thought he was dead; you never thought you’d see him again, touch him again, kiss him again.

You cup his jaw and as you brush your thumb over his lips, he gives a quick kiss to it.

He gently takes some of your hair in his hand, and lets it trail through his fingers as he follows it down to your collarbone.

You lean in, kissing him slow. You move to straddle him. His hands slide up your back, pulling you into him more, as your arms snake around his neck. You both pull away for short moments here and there, just for a glance at each other.

After a couple minutes, when you both pull away, you say quietly, “Take me home? I’ll make you coffee if you do,” you smile softly.

Frank smirks, “And if I want something sweeter than coffee?” He kisses you softly, hands gripping your thighs.

You smile as he kisses your neck next, “I think I might have something...it’s back in my bed though.”

He gives a low laugh against your neck, before lifting his head to look at you, “That sounds about right.”

His laugh. One of the best sounds you’ve ever heard.

You look at him, the joking put aside, “I missed you every single day.”

“It was almost too hard for me to stay away from you. Know that I’d of come back sooner if it was possible.”

And you fully believe that, “I know.”

He tucks some hair behind your ear as he kisses you again. When he pulls away, his gaze is loving, his voice calming, and his smile soft - “Come on, let’s go home.”


	18. Panties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this Punisher fan art: http://agents-galore.tumblr.com/post/150063294129/i-heard-that-frank-castle-is-so-badass-he-blushes
> 
> *just a smidge nsfw, nothing graphic*

You let Frank sleep in because he got in later than usual this morning. 

You stand up from the kitchen table, where you’re working on your laptop, to grab another cup of coffee. You haven’t changed from your sleepwear of panties and a t-shirt. 

You hear the quiet creak of the bed as Frank wakes, stretching out before getting up. You turn around and watch as he yawns, walking over to you. You smile as he wraps an arm around you. You run your hand through his messy hair before he gives you a quick kiss. 

You turn in his embrace to pour him a cup of coffee too. He takes it gratefully, kissing your temple. Frank goes and sits on the kitchen chair, next to your own. 

You open the fridge and lean down to grab the creamer for your own cup when you hear him.

“Woah. C’mere.” He sounds serious. 

Putting the creamer on the counter, you walk over to him, “What?” 

He grabs the hem of your shirt between his fingers and lifts it up, to look at your underwear. The pair you have on are black, with pink trim, covered in numerous Punisher skulls. 

You blush and smile. He looks up at you, a smirk playing at his lips. You pull your shirt out of his fingers and walk back to the counter to finish making your coffee. 

“You serious with that?” You hear the smirk in his tone now and smile to yourself. 

You turn around to face him and take off your shirt. You have a matching bra on.

“Very serious,” giving him a wink. 

He puts his cup down and stands up. His eyes trail up and down your body. His pupils are huge...he loves this. 

He stands in front of you, hands on your hips as he kisses you. 

You feel his hand trail up your back then unhook your bra. He pulls away only to take your bra off completely. 

You gasp quietly as his mouth moves down to your neck then to your chest. Kisses are placed down your chest and stomach as he kneels in front of you. He kisses you over the fabric of your Punisher panties; you grip the edge of the counter. 

He smirks and then slowly slides your panties down your legs. As he stands back up, he makes sure to brush his mouth past your heat. 

He steps back from you, your bra and panties each in a hand. 

You watch him as he walks backwards to the bed.

“What are you doing?” 

He smiles, “Well...I just stole from you. Come over here and punish me…”

You blush and lick your bottom lip.

He winks, “...show me what you’ve got.”


	19. Blackout

It’s the click of the AC shutting off that wakes him. 

It’s no surprise that Frank Castle is a light sleeper. It stems from his days as a Marine, having to be ready at the wake for combat. Then it continued as his current life, and sometimes yours, is under constant threat. 

His eyes open and the room is in complete darkness. The streetlamps that usually provide a faint light are dark. 

Blackout. 

You are still asleep in his arms. He waits a minute as his eyes adjust to the darkness before he kisses your cheek, then your temple. 

He feels as you snuggle further into his skin. He hates possibly disturbing you, not wanting to wake you for something as miniscule as a blackout but he needs to get up. 

Monsters lurk in the darkness. He should know, he is one. 

He wants to be alert and at the ready should any come knocking now that their existence is aided by the lack of light. 

He slowly moves from you and sits on the edge of the bed. He looks back at you and sees you’re curling into yourself due to his missing body heat; with the AC off now, he knows soon enough you’ll be kicking the sheets away. 

He opens the window first, so he can hear anything going on out in the streets. Walking over to his duffel he takes out a handgun, just in case. 

He hears you moving under the sheets followed by your sleep riddled voice, “Frank?” 

“I’m here. City’s in a blackout.” He explains as he makes his way back to the bed. 

You sit up as he sits next to you. He runs a hand through your hair as you rest your forehead against his shoulder. 

“Are you gonna come back to bed?” You lift your head, resting your chin on his shoulder, kissing his cheek. 

“In a little while. Just wanna make sure nothing happens here because of this shit.” 

A small yawn escapes you as you nod against him, “okay.” 

He kisses your forehead before you lay back down. He stays on the edge of the bed, looking at you with a small smile as you try to go back to sleep. 

When he knows you’re asleep, he stands up and makes himself some coffee. It’s only a few minutes later that you’re awake and walking into the kitchen.

“It’s too hot to sleep.” you groan. You only have on a t-shirt and underwear but it’s still August - hot, sticky August. 

As you grab a water bottle from the fridge, and are thankful it’s still cold, you notice what he’s drinking. 

You hold the cold water bottle to your neck as you walk over to him, “How are you drinking hot coffee right now?” 

Frank chuckles and takes a sip. “I was stationed in hotter places than this. This is nothing.” 

You take a sip of water before closing it up again and holding it to the back of your neck. 

All of a sudden you both look towards the open window as you hear the rattling of the fire escape.   
Someone’s coming up. 

You both put your drinks down and you feel Frank’s hand on your wrist before his face is right near yours, “Stay behind me.” 

He lets you go as he holds the handgun in his hands, pointed to the floor, as he slowly walks towards the window. You follow him as you keep an ear on the noise outside. 

After a few minutes of only hearing the rattling, you both hear the giggle of two women. 

“I can’t believe you lost your key Valerie!!” 

“Oh shut up, it’s not a big deal. I’m like almost positive that I left my window open, we’re good!” 

Both slurring, both obviously drunk, both harmless. 

You make out Frank shaking his head and lose his defensive stance. You go back to the counter and grab your drinks. Walking over to Frank, you hand him his coffee. 

You both lean against the wall and slide down so you’re sitting on the floor, leaning against it. 

“You know, I’ve always been afraid of the dark. Only when it’s pitch black like this.” 

He sips his coffee and puts it down next to him, “You sure you still are? ‘Cause you seem to be doing pretty well right now.” 

“That’s because you’re here.” You look at him, your eyes having adjusted to the dark a while ago, “I know I’m safe when you’re here.” 

He lays his hand on your bare thigh and squeezes gently.

“You too hot to get over here?” You can make out that half grin of his as he motions with his head for you to get even closer to him. 

As you move to climb into his lap, his hands are already on you, pulling you into him. 

He kisses your temple, hands rubbing against your bare thighs. He places kisses along your jaw until his lips meet yours, kissing you slow. 

The AC kicks back on and the low light of the street lamps once again shine into your apartment. 

You only notice when you finally pull away from each other. 

With the AC going again, bringing the temperature down like you prefer, you smile, “Take me to bed, Castle,” you kiss the corner of his mouth. 

He shifts his hips until he sees you raise an eyebrow paired with your cheeks blushing as you feel him. 

“You feel like going for a ride instead?” He smirks, voice gravelly as his arousal grows. 

He gets his answer as you move to straddle him.


	20. Mine To Protect

Two file boxes in your hands and your purse slung over your shoulder make it difficult for you to dig for your keys to your apartment building.   
  
You know Frank is going to be annoyed when he sees the boxes. File boxes being brought home usually means you're digging into something. Digging into something means you, at some point, will willingly put yourself into danger and it's that part he doesn't care for.   
  
After a couple minutes of struggling, the door is opened by a smiling, pleasant man. He steps aside indicating he opened it for you.   
  
You give a quick smile and 'thanks' over the top of the box as you walk inside.   
  
Once inside, an arm is instantly around your neck. The boxes fall from your grasp, folders and papers spreading across the floor, as you claw at the arm.   
  
The arm moves and now you're being thrown into the corner of the concrete walls.  You manage to stop yourself from slamming into it and you turn around, back against the wall.   
  
There stands the same 'pleasant' man who had just opened the door for you. From what seems like out of nowhere, three more men walk into view. Every single one looking at you.   
  
"So you're the one shacking up with The Punisher?"   
  
Oh no.   
  
"What are you talking about?"  Play stupid. That's always the easiest plan to go with.   
  
The man feigns a chuckle, glancing back at his henchman, before looking back at you.   
  
"There's something you need to understand. This is your first and only courtesy. You tell us where we can find him and you'll never see us again..."  He steps into your personal space as his threatening tone gets more sinister.   
  
"You give us a hard time, like it seems you're starting to do, and your vigilante boyfriend will have the pleasure of finding your mutilated body."   
  
Fuck. This guy's brogue instantly gave away that these guys are obviously part of the Irish. You know from Frank and your own research that they don't fuck around.   
  
"I haven't seen him in months." When playing stupid doesn't work, lie differently.   
  
"Is that so?" He clearly doesn't believe you.   
  
You nod, "As you know, people do argue and stop speaking. Even the Punisher."  Being a smart ass is just in your blood.  
  
His hand juts out, gripping your neck. He squeezes tight, cutting off your air supply.   
  
You claw at his arm again, struggling to get even one breath. This is how you're going to die.   
  
You swing your leg out, getting him right in the crotch. He doubles over, letting you go.   
  
You fall to your knees, desperately gasping for air.   
  
"Stupid bitch!" The back of his hand connects with your face and you taste blood.   


He leans into your face, snarling, "Tell skull boy we're looking for him. He’s got 24 hours to show his face. Otherwise we’ll be seeing you again, real soon."   
  
With that, they leave.   
  
You pull your knees into your chest and rake your hands through your hair. You're still catching your breath as you look out at your files strewn about.  
  
This isn't good.   
  
\--  
  
You don't even know if it'd be considered overreacting or not, because really, how many people find themselves in this situation? But you check into a hotel.   
  
You waited until you were sure they were gone before heading up into your apartment. You quickly packed a bag for several days, took your files, and grabbed a cab to a hotel on the other side of the city.   
  
You leave no note for Frank. He'll be concerned, you know this, but you just can't bring yourself to tell him about what happened.   
  
He's the Punisher. He's murdered thousands of criminals. But there will always be the chance that he’s the one who gets murdered next and the Irish are fully capable of doing just that.    
  
They'll come for you first, before they go for him. You know what they do. They'd prefer to torture you in front of him.  
  
If cutting him out of your life means saving his own, than you'll take the heartache a million times over.   
   
You settle into your hotel room and wonder what your next step is. You can't hide out forever.   
  
\--   
  
Work is no longer a priority. You're finally using your vacation days. Risking the innocent lives of your coworkers is not something you want to do, so it was only best you don't show your face there. 

 

You wear your hair tucked under a hat, hood pulled over it as you make your way to your apartment building. 

 

It's been three days since your encounter with the Irish. You've gone back to your place during the day. You go back to see if it's been ransacked at all by them, if there's a new threat left for you, and also, to see if maybe Frank left anything for you. You know he's probably out of his mind with worry, but he'll get over it...right? 

 

Once you're safely inside your building, you take off the hood and hat and head up to your apartment. You cautiously open the door and when you step inside, you see him. Frank. 

 

You weren't expecting this. 

 

"Where the hell have you been?" It’s out of his mouth in a split second, like he’s just been waiting to finally ask.  He doesn't move, just stares at you. You notice his eyes flicker to the cut on your lip.

 

You figure you're only play here is to push him away. Push him away to save his life. You keep telling yourself that, but it doesn't make it any easier. 

 

"It's none of your business."  God, could you sound more juvenile? 

 

Confusion flashes across his face. This isn't like you. 

 

"…Fine…" You two have been 'dating' a few months now. He'd like to think it _is_  his business.

 

He takes in your appearance.  The dark grey hoodie, the baseball cap in your hands.  It’s obvious you haven’t been sleeping well by the dark circles under your eyes.  Pair all that with the cut on your lip, well it isn’t hard to figure out.

 

You watch as his stare softens, but his face grows more serious.  He squints for a second, like he’s able to read your thoughts.  Jaw clenching and fingertips flicking against his palm, you watch as he finally moves towards you.

 

“…What kinda trouble you in?” It’s asked so gently, tone full of concern.

 

You feel the tears starting. You turn your head away from him and in that second, you swear you feel the apartment grow cold as Frank's face turns angry. 

 

He walks right up to you, his hand on your neck. His thumb gently brushes across your bruised skin. 

 

"Who?" He growls. 

 

You can't tell him. You can't. 

 

Tears spill from your eyes as you shove him away from you, your cap falling to the floor. 

 

"You always tell me I should stay away from you! Shouldn't be anywhere near you! I finally listen, but then when I come back, back to _my_ apartment, here you are!”  Biting your lip, you cross your arms against your chest.  You wipe your tears and try to put on an angry front.

 

His expression is as if you had slapped him.

 

He stays quiet for what feels like forever. His eyes just bore into yours.

 

He finally glances away for a second like he’s still processing what you said.  You watch as he nods shortly to himself before looking back at you, his words quiet.

 

"...Okay...You want me gone?”  As he speaks, he slowly closes the couple feet separating you both, “Then say it. Tell me right now that we’re done and I'll leave. That's it, clean break." 

 

He’s calling your bluff.  You’re full of bullshit. If he truly thought you wanted him gone, he'd have left a long time ago. 

 

You stare at him through tear filled eyes, his eyes never leaving yours.

 

When you shake your head slowly, he knows he’s got you.  He reaches his hand up, cupping your cheek, thumb brushing away tears. 

 

As you lean into his touch, you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

 

As soon as you reach out, gripping his shirt and pulling him towards you, he wraps his arms around you. You cry into his chest as he cradles the back of your head.  

 

He kisses your temple as he rubs the back of your head gently, “Listen to me.  Whatever the hell is going on, you’re gonna be fine. I’m gonna take care of it. Okay? I promise you that.”

 

You lift your head from his shirt and swipe your fingertips across your cheek, wiping the tears away.  His are wiping the ones from your other cheek. 

 

“Three days ago, some guys from the Irish got me downstairs when I was coming home…they’re looking for you, Frank.  Told me to let you know that you had 24 hours to go to them, or…you’d be finding my body somewhere.”

 

You feel his breathing get more rapid as he seethes, “They fucking touch you anywhere else?”

 

You just shake your head.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?  They threatened your life for god’s sake! _Your_ life!”  He may be able to read you, but you’ve come to know him pretty well also.  His angry tone isn’t really directed at you, it’s his fear of losing you that has him trying to drill into your head what you should have done.

 

Taking a step back from his grasp, you try to make him understand, “Because they’re going to try and kill you!  We’ve seen what they do, how they operate.  If they can’t find me, then they can’t get to you.”

 

He shakes his head and runs his hand over his face, “You don’t need to protect me! It ain’t worth the trouble,” he moves close to you again, his head dipping down slightly to make sure you’re looking at him, “But see, you? _You_ are.  You’re worth protecting…and that’s on me.”

 

“I never asked you to.” More of a statement than an accusatory fact.

 

The corner of his mouth twitches and you see the faintest hint of a smirk, “You didn’t have to. The day you walked into my life, your fate was sealed…”

 

His hand sneaks into your hair and his nose moves across your cheek before he kisses near the corner of your eye.  You close your eyes at his gentle touch, hands on his hips.

 

“…you’d be mine to protect.”

 

Just as you open your eyes to find him looking at you, both of you look towards the door.  From the floor below, thanks to the thin walls of your crappy building, you hear at least two sets of footsteps making their way up the stairs. 

 

Then you hear the voices.

 

“She hasn’t been here for days. Why the fuck we have to keep checking?”  The first guy complains.

 

“Man, stop fucking whining.  We go in, nothing’s there, we leave. Takes two seconds.”  The second guy replies.

 

Frank thinks fast. There’s probably more guys outside watching the place so going out the window isn’t a viable option.  If he causes a shootout it could draw more of them, plus possibly police, which is only going to make the situation worse.  The apartment is so small, there’s only one place to hide – the bathroom. 

 

You both move into the bathroom.  He moves you next to the door, presses a kiss to your lips, and motions for you to crouch down. Once you do, he slowly moves the bathroom door so it’s halfway open (less suspicious than if it was shut) and so that it’s blocking your position. 

 

He quietly pulls the shower curtain back and steps inside the tub, pulling the curtain closed in front of him.  He pulls out his military knife and he waits.

You cover your mouth to stop from panicking out loud.  You hear the two thugs enter your apartment. 

 

“See Sean, looks the same as yesterday.”  One of them is walking around the kitchen area.

 

Frank figures once they leave, he’ll go find the Irish – he knows their hang outs.  He isn’t going to have your life in jeopardy over him.  He’ll take care of it like he promised.

 

“Wait, Chris, look.”

 

Frank furrows his brow as he wonders what they’re looking at.  Than he remembers – your baseball cap, you dropped it. 

 

You remember too and you add it to the list of things you screwed up with this whole thing.

 

“Shit. It’s probably _his_.”

 

“Nah man, Punisher wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave without his fucking hat.  He’d be spotted in a second.”

 

“Go check under the bed just to make sure no one’s still here. Then the closet.” 

 

You both hear one set of footsteps move towards your bed while the second pair walks right into the bathroom.  The bathroom door is pushed open more, slowly.  You hold your breath as the door comes dangerously close to bumping into you.

 

Frank waits for the curtain to inevitably be drawn back when he lucks out.  The guy near your bed must have bumped into something, based on the thud sound, because the guy in the bathroom looks towards the door giving Frank the upper hand he needs.  Frank quickly pulls the curtain back, grabs the guy from behind with his hand over his mouth and slices a neat line across the guy’s neck.  He keeps his hand over the man’s mouth. 

 

The sound of the small scuffle draws the attention of the second man. As you hear him approach into the doorway, you stay crouched down as you shove the door forward, stunning him.  Frank quickly drops the dead man and stabs the knife into the second guy’s face. 

 

You quickly turn your head from the scene and hear as Frank makes sure he’s dead.  Once he’s finished, you stand up and try not to look down at the bodies and blood.  Frank washes his hands in the bathroom sink quickly, “I’m getting you out of here, than you’re going back to wherever you’ve been staying.  I’ll come back and take care of these two and then I’m comin’ for the rest of ‘em.”

 

You argue as he takes your arm and leads you out of the bathroom,, “No, you can’t!”

 

“I’m ending this shit.  You don’t deserve to have your life put on hold like this…not for this, not because of me.” 

You feel the tears rolling down your face, “Goddamn it, Frank!  This is why I didn’t tell you!  If anything happens to you…if you don’t make it back to me…” you sigh feeling defeated, “…than what life do I even have left?”

 

His hands come up to your cheeks, your tears now rolling down his thumbs.  “A safe one.”

 

He can be so infuriating.  You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head in his grasp.  Next thing you know, he’s kissing you.  Your heart hurts because you can feel the desperation in it, like he’s trying to make sure you know how he feels for you – in case he really doesn’t make it back.

 

You kiss him back, hands gripping his forearms.  He slowly lets you go when he pulls away.  Bending down, he picks up your hat and places it on your head.  His hands then go past your neck as he lifts your hood up, pulling it up on your head, over the top of the hat. 

 

He pops up his own brim with his finger before leaning down and pressing one more kiss to your lips.  He stands back up, fixing his cap, and takes your hand.  You both walk out of the apartment, locking it behind you.  As you descend the stairs, you make it to the second floor when you hear the front door down below fly open, “Where the hell are those two idiots?” you both hear before feet start running up the stairs.

 

Frank quickly pushes you into a dark corner, his body in front of you.  He puts his hands on either side of you as he leans in close.  You grip his jacket as your hear them come up to the floor you’re hiding on.  As quickly as they get there, they’re already continuing up to the higher floors, never seeing you two. 

 

Frank waits a minute before looking over his shoulder and finding it safe enough to keep moving.  Again, he takes your hand and heads down the last staircase.  Poking his head out the back door, he deems it clear and heads outside with you. 

 

You make it a few blocks, before he pulls you into an alleyway.   You pull your hood down and take off the hat, running your hand through your hair.  Frank has you up against a wall, one hand splayed against the brick next to your head.  He watches your hand as it runs through your hair before his hand follows, him wanting to feel your hair between his fingers one more time.

 

He almost looks lost in thought when his mouth moves, “I went crazy these past three days, not knowing where you were,” his hand now on your hip. 

 

“I panicked. I didn’t want to have to tell you what happened because I knew you’d go and do what you’re about to do.  In the moment it had made more sense to just go into hiding until I could figure something out.” 

 

He runs the back of his fingers down your cheek tenderly, “You remember when we first met?  Page sent you to the jail to talk to me because she had to help Nelson with something?”

 

You can’t help but smile, “Yeah, you didn’t want to talk to me.” 

 

Frank chuckles low, “Shows how stupid I was. You fixed that though, ripping into me about how she trusted you enough to have you come talk to me, how you spent hours looking at every picture and every file on me, and how if I wanted to help myself I’d listen to what you had to say – that you were willing to help me in any way possible, be in it together with me you said.”

 

“You were being a pain in the ass, someone had to put you in your place,” you smirk, running your fingers along his stubble.

 

He gives a quick laugh, “Was hoping that wouldn’t be the last time I saw you after that,” pressing a quick kiss to your lips, “But you had just met me and you were already willing to be in it together with me, I never forgot that.  But what you need to know is that I feel the same way – whatever happens with you, I’m here, and I’m in it together with you.  Don’t ever feel like you need to figure something out on your own.”

 

There’s no question that if you could somehow take back the tragedy of Frank Castle’s life so he could go back to his old life with his loving family, you would – but if he had to have this life he’s living right now, you couldn’t be happier that it was with you.

 

You gently grasp his chin and pull him forward as you lean in, kissing him sweetly.  His hand on your hip moves, sliding up your back and pulling you close. 

 

You pull away slowly and tell him the hotel you’re staying at and your room number, “You meet me there as soon as this is over. Please, Frank. Promise me.”

 

There’s a good chance he won’t make it back to you and he hates making promises he can’t keep, but if it’s one he _hopes_ he can?

 

“I promise.”

 

__

 

You left Frank in that alleyway two days ago.  You don’t even remember what sleeping feels like.

 

It’s almost 2am and as usual you’re pacing your hotel room.  The only peace you have is that you haven’t heard on the news about The Punisher being found dead.

 

You gasp quietly when you hear a short knock on your door.  You run over and quickly look through the peephole.  All you see is the front of a black, baseball cap as the figure’s head is slightly bent down.  But it’s the dark stain on the brim that you instantly recognize – the stain from when things got a little heated in your kitchen and you knocked his hat off into a mug of coffee as his lips were on your neck. 

 

You pull the door open and pull him in by the front of his jacket.  As you turn from locking the door, he’s standing there, looking at you. 

 

You walk over to him and take off his hat, dropping it on the floor by your bare feet.  You can tell he swiped his face of blood quickly before coming here, although with the cuts on him, there were fresh new trails already.  You take his face in your hands and inspect him; he’s got several cuts that you’ll need to stitch.  You’re glad you remembered to grab the first aid kit when you packed in a hurry.

 

He hands are clasped together behind your back.  You find a patch of skin that is free of blood and kiss him there.  You feel blood dripping onto your hand, from his chin, as you unzip his jacket.  His Punisher skull comes into view as you slide his jacket off revealing his Kevlar. 

 

His eyes stay on you as you take care of him. 

 

You undo the straps of his vest and pull it over his head, him ducking his head a little as you lift it up.  You let that fall to the floor too.  You reach behind your back, unclasping his hands, and lead him into the bathroom. 

 

You grab the hem of his shirt and pull it up over his head.  You feel tears well up as you see the myriad of cuts and bruises to his body.

 

“Hey, I’m okay. I’m okay.” He slides his fingers into your hair at the side of your head and kisses your forehead. You nod slowly as he uses his other hand to wipe the blood he left on your skin.

 

You finish undressing him and yourself before getting into the warm shower.  He gratefully accepts the water flowing over him, rubbing his face to rid as much as blood as he can.  You place your hands on his hips from behind and kiss his upper back, avoiding his injuries.  When he turns around, you grip his dog tags and tug him down to meet your upturned face.  He kisses you passionately, you taste the blood from the cut on his lip, but all you can think about it is how he’s here, how he’s still alive. 

 

He slowly moves you backwards until you feel your back make contact with the cold, tiled wall.  You instinctively move forward to get away from the cold shock.  Frank moves his hand to your back so when his body moves against yours again, it’s the back of his hand against the cold wall, not you. 

 

When you both pull away, you try to catch your breath, lowering your face to look at his chest.  You feel his breath against your temple as he too catches his own.  You run your hand up his sternum, up his neck, till his ear is in the crook of your thumb.  You rub his jaw softly and look at him. 

 

He kisses you again, his lips capturing yours.  You feel him against you and you try to suppress your moan but it slips out.  He pulls away and kisses your neck, his hand on your cheek. 

 

You lean your head back and try to get out the words, “Frank…you shouldn’t…do anything…physical.”

 

You hear him say against your neck, “Shouldn’t have gotten into the shower with me then.”

 

With a smile, you place your hand on his chest and push him back from your neck.  He complies and looks at you.

 

“Just let me take care of you,” you wrap your hand around him, causing his eyes to close briefly and groan in pleasure.

 

__

 

After the shower, Frank leans against the sink’s edge, towel wrapped around his waist.  You’re standing close in front of him, towel wrapped around your own body, sewing a cut by his eyebrow.   It takes you about an hour to sew up everything that needed it.  Once finished, you pull on a pair of panties and a tank top while all Frank has to sleep in are his boxer briefs.   

 

He’s sitting up on the bed, back resting against the headboard.  You’re sitting on his lap, legs straddling his thighs.  His hands haven’t left your skin since you sat down. He’s been telling you what he’s done the past couple days, minus the gruesome details of his Irish massacre. 

 

You gently run your hands down his chest, careful of the fresh stitches you just gave him.  He leans forward, his lips softly moving over the almost healed cut on your lip.

 

“I think we deserve a vacation.” He whispers against your mouth, kissing you.

 

“Out of the city?” 

 

He nods, hands rubbing the outside of your thighs. 

 

“Where to?”  You smile, getting excited at what he has in mind.  Anywhere is amazing if it’s just you and Frank.  

 

“I have a cabin upstate.” He grins at your smile, thumb brushing your skin just under your bottom lip. 

 

You kiss him softly before very gently snuggling into his chest, his arms wrapping around you.  He kisses your hair and rests his chin on top of your head.

 

You rub his bicep, “Sounds perfect.”


	21. Swat AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this picture: instagram.com/p/BKjkOWAhegz/
> 
> Also, smut warning (very beginning)

Frank wakes up on his back, his arm draped over his face. His left arm is weighted down and he looks over spotting the cause. 

 

Immediately a smile spreads on his face. 

 

You’re lying on your stomach, hugging Frank’s arm against your nude body. You have him pinned, diagonally, between your skin and the mattress.  

 

He lifts up the sheet from his own bare skin; without moving the arm you hold, he rolls his body so it’s covering yours. He slides his other arm between you and the bed, his arm resting low, against your core. 

 

It’s the feather light tickles you feel first, on your shoulder blades.  Frank’s short beard is lightly grazing you as his mouth moves along your skin. 

 

You wake up slowly, butt faintly arching up as you stretch your body; that’s when you feel your ass make contact with Frank, a groan slipping from between his lips. 

 

That sound alone instantly forms goosebumps on your body and you smile to yourself as you make the move one more time. 

 

Another husky groan.

 

“You’ll be the death of me, I swear.” 

 

You laugh and look over your shoulder at his rugged, handsome face. He kisses your cheek. 

 

He holds himself up as you turn around under him. His arm now freed from your grasp and you on your back.

 

He leans down, situated on his forearms, and slowly kisses you. Your hands immediately find his face and tenderly rub his bearded jaw. 

 

Frank feels as your legs move from underneath him; he feels your knees brush his hips, before your feet hook behind his thighs, and he smiles against your lips. 

 

“You askin’ for somethin’?” He teases with a smirk.

 

His hips move forward, his length brushing against your opening. 

 

Your mouth opens slightly into the kiss, a small moan finding itself being passed between you. 

 

He moves from your mouth to your neck. Then, from your neck to your chest. 

 

As his body moves down yours, you can’t help but spread your legs a little more. 

 

When his mouth reaches your breast, your hand slides into the hair on the back of his head. You grip it gently as your head leans back, chest arching into him. 

 

He keeps one forearm on the bed as he raises his other arm - his hand palming the breast he doesn’t have his mouth on. 

 

He can hear your breathing change. Your breaths growing more rapid the more his tongue moves over your nipple, his mouth on your skin. 

 

His hand kneads your other one, thumb brushing over the nipple repeatedly. 

 

“Frank...hmmm” you bite your lip at the sensation, unable to finish that thought. 

 

When he moves his mouth to the other one, to work his magic, you swear you almost lose it right then. 

 

You use your feet to push against the back of his legs. You can’t wait any longer...and from the feeling of it, either can he. 

 

The tip of his tongue trails up between your mounds as his body moves back up. 

 

Your mouth is on his in seconds. He lines himself up with you and pushes into you slowly. Your arms tightening around his neck and your legs tightening around his hips being your indication of your pleasure at him filling you up. 

 

He follows that up with a quick, unexpected thrust. 

You break away from the kiss as you cry out in pleasure. 

 

\--

 

You walk into HQ later that morning and find your group sitting down waiting for the Lieutenant to come brief your team. 

 

The guys are sitting on tabletops, feet are propped up, laughter fills the room.

 

Frank glances at you as you walk in and gives you a quick wink. 

 

You give him a small nod of hello as you walk over to the other side of the room, sitting next to Parikh, one of your close buddies on the team. 

 

You and Frank have been secretly seeing each other for several months now.  You’re both members of a SWAT team in a small city. Your team has a lot of a down time but your city still sees it’s fair share of crime, just nothing in comparison to say New York City or Los Angeles. 

 

No one seems to be the wiser about you two and you’d rather keep it that way. These guys are like your brothers, but being the only female on the team will come with judgments from them if they found out you were sleeping with one of them. 

 

As soon as the LT walks in, everyone settles down. Frank shoots another glance your way as he turns towards the front, taking a sip of coffee from his paper cup. 

 

“Alright guys, listen up. We have an armed individual who has kidnapped a six-year old girl. PD is currently handling the situation but there’s a good chance we’ll be needed. I want you all on standby - that means your gear is prepped and you’re ready to go in a moment’s notice, understand?” 

 

“Yes sir” you all reply in unison. 

 

As everyone leaves the room, you and Frank are last, “You didn’t have to leave me the last of your coffee this morning. I know how much you hate this crap,” motioning to his paper cup filled with the HQ’s coffee that you both can’t stand. 

 

He smirks and shrugs, “It’s growing on me.”

 

You look at him for a beat before rolling your eyes with a small laugh, “You’re such a liar.” 

 

A gruff chuckle escapes him. He downs the last drop of the weak excuse for coffee, a wince coming to his face as he chucks the cup in the garbage. 

 

You nudge your arm playfully into his side and his arm comes around your back, hooking you into him. 

 

You both take a quick look around before he leans in planting a quick kiss on your lips, his beard tickling your chin. You brush your thumb over his chin, “You left a little beard burn again by the way.” 

 

You take a step back so you two are no longer embracing. 

 

That smug smirk of his pops up as his hand brushes your thigh, the location of said beard burn. 

 

“You complaining or just sharing?” He asks with a raised eyebrow. 

 

You give him a small smile, “...just sharing.”  You walk out, leaving a smirking Frank Castle behind.

 

\--

 

There’s 10 of you on the team which means there are five pairs currently maneuvering through this building. Your team was needed as PD notified that the armed man was supposedly held up with the young girl somewhere inside. 

 

Frank was lead on this one. He and Lee were a pair, a floor above. You and Parikh are together in the basement.

 

As you round a corner you see the little girl sitting on a counter several feet away. While still being diligent of your surroundings, you both quickly make your way to her.

 

She seems physically fine, but she’s crying. That’s when you notice her hand. Her small hand is duct taped to a live grenade whose handle she is squeezing with all her might.

 

“H..he said if I let go, I’ll die.” she says between sobs.

 

_ “Suspect in custody. Team Four extracting him.” _

 

You heard Ramirez over the radio.

 

Without really thinking, you prop your rifle up, remove your helmet, and your gloves. 

 

“I promise you, you aren’t going to die. You’re going to be just fine sweetie. Your mom is right outside.”

 

You wrap your hand around hers, undoing the duct tape. You carefully replace her hand on the handle with your own.

 

_ You’re _ now holding a live grenade. 

 

_ “Any team locate the little girl?”  _ Frank’s voice comes over.

 

Parikh’s eyes are wide at what you just did. 

 

“Parikh! Get her out of here! Tell Castle we found her. And...and get the bomb squad.”

 

Parikh hits his com, “Team Two has located the little girl. She is okay. I’m bringing her outside now.”

 

\--

 

_ “Team Two has located the little girl. She is okay. I’m bringing her outside now.” _

 

Frank’s eyebrows knit together at Parikh’s words. Proper radio communication is stating what the team is doing, not an individual. Before he can question it, Parikh’s voice comes over again…

 

_ “We also need the Bomb Squad to respond to the basement. Officer in immediate need of assistance.”  _

 

He feels his blood run cold. What’s happened to you?

 

\--

 

You hate that you want to cry when you hear Frank’s response a few minutes later through your com; Parikh’s already left with the girl.

 

_ “Team Two, Bomb Squad has been notified. All Teams are to leave the building immediately. Be advised that I am reporting to the basement.” _

 

Damn it, Castle. 

 

You have both hands squeezing the grenade. You know you’ve dealt with some real shitty situations in your line of work, but there’s a reason you never joined the Bomb Squad. 

 

Sans helmet and gloves, you see Frank round the corner and stop short at the sight of you. Parikh filled him in on the situation but to actually see you, the woman he loves, holding something that could rip you from this world in seconds is heart stopping. 

 

He continues over to you and he immediately reaches out wiping a tear from your cheek that you didn’t even realize had fallen. 

 

“Frank...you shouldn’t be here.” You almost whisper to him, taking a step back. 

 

“I’m exactly where I should be. I ain’t leaving until you are.” He takes a step closer. 

 

You close your eyes as you take a breath. When you open them, you look at him, “You’re crazy Castle.” 

 

“Says the woman holding a grenade.” He quips with a small, smirk. 

 

A short, nervous chuckle leaves you, “Figured I’d be the only one in the blast zone.” 

 

“Yeah, well. You got a man who's crazy about you, so if you really thought you’d be doing this alone…” he opens his arms slightly, “...surprise.”

 

A small smile quickly appears on your face for a second. 

 

Frank notices your hands shaking and all of a sudden his hands are covering yours. 

 

Your eyes widen, “Frank!” you scold him quietly. 

 

“Hey, I got you. You’re going to be fine.” He says it calmly and you meet his stare. 

 

Just then a member of the Bomb Squad walks in. You both know Josh from other scenes you’ve all worked.

 

“Alright, (l/n). This is going to be easy, I just need you to keep very still. Castle, need you to move your hands.” 

 

Frank’s thumb rubs your skin quick before removing his hands from yours.

 

Josh places a hand on yours to keep them steady as he takes a long, very thin metal stick and slowly pushes it through the holes where the grenade’s ring usually sits. Once he slides it in, preventing the handle from lifting (thus exploding), he looks at you. 

 

“Now the hard part...you need to let go.” 

 

You look at him confused, “That’s it? It won’t go off?” 

 

Josh nods, “Nope, it’s secured.”

 

You glance at Frank before looking at Josh.  You take a breath and slowly release your grip on the grenade. When it doesn’t explode, you release the breath you were holding. 

 

Josh carefully walks out with the grenade. 

 

Frank’s hands are immediately on your face, his forehead against yours. 

 

You let out a quiet sob as it really hits you what could have happened. 

 

Frank kisses your forehead, “You did really great. You’re okay, you’re okay.” His words spoken reassuringly. 

 

\--

 

That night, you’re back at Frank’s. 

 

You’re both sitting on the steps of his back deck, a cold beer next to each of you, looking up at the sky periodically as you talk. 

 

There’s been a comfortable lull in the conversation when he clears his throat a little. 

 

“I don’t want you to think that I’m overreacting to what happened today. Because I’m not. If anything, it just made me realize that I should have said it sooner.” 

 

You watch him as he speaks. You’re dreading this argument. You never thought he’d be the type to say that it isn’t safe for you to do this job. You feel your heart start sinking. 

 

“I love you.” 

 

He continues, “I’ve known for awhile, just was too nervous to tell you.” 

 

A smile grows on your face and you wrap your arms around his neck. He pulls you into his lap, his hand immediately sliding under your shirt to rub your lower back. 

 

You kiss him passionately, a kiss that lasts for a good minute. When you pull away, you lovingly caress his jaw as you look at him, “I love you too, Frank.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene in the basement was borrowed from 'Rookie Blue' 3x13.


	22. Back to Sleep

‘No, no, no!’ you think as you wake up and see the time. 

The green lights of your clock let you know it’s 5:12am. The sun’s not even out yet. 

You and Frank had only gotten in an hour and a half ago from a recon night, one that almost took a bad turn if not for him being there. 

Your side still throbs from the kick the shithead managed to get in before Frank ended up being the last person he ever saw. 

Looking over, you see Frank is sound asleep. Exhaustion finally overcoming his body from the past several nights. 

You quietly groan. You had been so tired when you got home, how are you awake right now? 

Slowly getting out of bed, you head into the kitchen and make coffee. You’re gonna need more than him today and that’s saying something.

You stand there, zoning out as you stare at the crack in the wall behind the sink. 

A deep, gravelly voice breaks you out of it, “What the hell are you doing up?” 

He had managed to walk up behind you without you realizing. You spin around to face him. 

His hair is tousled and his eyes sleepy as he looks at you. 

Your shoulders slump as you sigh, obviously frustrated, “I have no idea.” 

He shakes his head. Walking closer to you, he leans down and wraps his arm under your butt; he easily picks you up like a child. Your legs wrap around his hips, your arms rest on his shoulders as you rest your cheek against the side of his head. 

He makes his way back to the bed. He holds you close as he kneels on the bed and leans down, your body starting to hang from his. 

He shifts and lays down with you so you’re both on your sides. He reaches his arm down and pulls the sheets up over you both. 

You snuggle into his chest, legs weaving with his. He starts slowly combing his fingers through your hair at the side of your head. 

You close your eyes briefly and revel in the soothing feeling of his actions. The repetitive motion makes you sigh as you feel your body relax.

“It still hurts? That why you woke up?” He asks, referring to the kick you received.

“It’s still throbbing a little, but it didn’t wake me.” You press your forehead against his chest, closing your eyes. 

You feel his chin atop your head. His hand stops combing your hair and instead slides into your hair at the back of your head. 

He kisses your hairline and starts gently massaging the back of your scalp. 

You keep one hand tucked under your chin in a fist, your knuckles a trace away from his chest. Your slide your other hand along his stomach, over his waist, and rest it on his firm back. 

He feels your breath crawl across his skin as you let out a sigh of pleasure. 

You return the favor as you start lightly dragging your fingernails up and down his back. 

It’s not long before you both fall back to sleep; hands falling limp, but never losing contact.


	23. Keep Warm

You sit shivering in your car. The collar of your winter coat is pulled up, your scarf wrapped around your head like a babushka. Despite the gloves, you still need to blow into your hands every couple of minutes, rubbing furiously. 

You’re not going to make the night. You’ve almost completely accepted that.

You deserve it, you guess. On an emotional whim, you decided to get the hell outta dodge for a few days, dodge being Hell’s Kitchen. You just…you just needed a goddamn break.

You took a few days off of work, told no one your plans and just took off for the mountains….in the middle of the worst winter New York has seen in years.

The car breaking down was not planned, or expected obviously. Your cell phone has no service and no other car has passed in hours. It’s getting dark, you have no flares, no nothing. Like you said, totally on a whim.

Your headlights are getting weaker so your last hope of being seen will soon be dead…just like you.

It’s hours later, you’re in and out of consciousness, lying on the backseat of your car shaking nonstop, when you hear muffled shouting. You have no energy to do anything. You glance at the window and see two black hands come into view as the snow that has covered your car is feverishly brushed away.

You close your eyes so you miss the pair of dark, brown eyes peering into the window. 

Even when the glass shatters from your driver’s side window, you don’t even move. You swear you’re frozen to the seat.

And arm reaches into the window pane and hits the ‘unlock’ button. All of a sudden the door by your feet is ripped open and the car shakes when a hulking figure pushes in.

You feel yourself being lifted and cuddled as the outside world comes into view. It’s still snowing something fierce but before you could even blink, you were inside a different car - an unbelievably warm car.

The door slams shut next to you. You hear snow crunching under boots and some car doors slam outside before the door opens again and your suitcase is put on the floor by your feet.

The other back door opens and the figure slides in. His gloves are tossed into the front seat and his warm hands are on your ice, cold face. 

Frank.

He’s saying something but you’re not with it enough to know what. You pass out shortly after.

When you come to, you’re in the middle of a bed, tucked in under the covers. You have about five blankets piled on top of you and you hear a fire crackling not too far away. Despite the obvious efforts to warm you, you’re still shivering and you only feel a little warmer. You snuggle deeper into the mattress. You take a quick look around without moving and notice you’re in a small cabin.

You hear something next to you and look over to see a steaming mug on the side table, and the hand letting go of the handle belongs to, your eyes trail up the arm, Frank. Oh my god, you remember now. How Frank rescued you from your car.

“F..F..Frank.” you manage to get out.

His head snaps to look at you, obviously not aware you had woken up on your own. Let alone your teeth chattering, he sees you trembling under the pile of blankets.

“Shit, you’re still shivering.” He immediately starts to pull the blankets back, much to your confusion. Once you’re completely uncovered, you notice you’re in an outfit with nothing but oversized clothes - socks, sweatpants, and zip up hoodie. 

“I’m sorry but I had to get you outta those clothes you were in and into something warm.”

Your hands instinctively pull into the large sleeves and your bring your knees towards your chest.

Speaking quickly as he feels your forehead to see if you’re any warmer, “Listen…skin to skin is proven to warm people faster in situations like this…but if you…”

You cut him off from trying to be gentlemanly, you’re too cold to give a shit about awkwardness. You look up at him as you start unzipping the hoodie, “P…please, Frank.”

Frank quickly strips himself of his shirt and pants. He helps you take off the hoodie and hesitates to help with the sweatpants until you attempt to do so yourself. He takes over, sliding them off your legs, along with the socks, and tossing them to the side.

Clad in only your bra and underwear, you reach an arm out to him, which pulls at his heart, as he immediately slides into bed next to you, pulling the covers over both of you. You’re cuddled together instantly.

You sigh from his body heat enveloping you. Your feet find his, legs entangled together. You tuck your hands between your bodies and bury your face into his chest. His hands rub up and down your back, generating more heat from the friction and his large, warm hands. 

“You’re so w…warm” he makes out your words as he tries not to think of the feeling of your lips moving against his chest as you say it.

You shift your legs, one knee resting against his inner thigh. He feels his heart rate start to pick up. 

“Am I making you cold?” There goes your lips again, fluttering against his skin. He hopes you’re still shivering enough to not feel his own shiver.

“Not at all.” He presses a kiss to your hairline.

About a half hour later, you’re no longer shivering and just comfortably warm. You’re still snuggled in his arms, him lightly running his fingertips up and down your back for the past several minutes. 

With the urgency of warming you up long gone, you wonder if you should feel more uncomfortable than you do, being this intimately close to Frank. You just feel so safe and comforted with him like this.

He breaks the silence first, his chest vibrating against you as he asks, “You still cold at all?”

If you say yes, you know that means he’ll probably pull away from you which hurts at just the thought, but you also aren’t comfortable lying to him.

“No, I’m actually perfectly warm right now.”

You feel him nod against you, “Good.” 

He doesn’t move. If anything you swear he holds you a little tighter. Maybe you aren’t the only one who’s had feelings for awhile?

“So, you gonna tell me what the hell you were thinking runnin’ off by yourself like that?”

You groan quietly, “It’s stupid.”

There’s a minute of quiet before you hear him hesitantly ask, “Was it because of me? Interrupting your life like I do?”

How could he think that?

His breath catches in his throat as you place a kiss on his chest. He feels your nose graze up his neck as you lift your head up; you feel the bob of his adam’s apple as he reacts to your touch.

You skim your cheek down his jawline, as you pull back to look at him. His hand has stopping moving on your back and is resting low, his pinky and ring finger resting on the top of your butt.

For the first time since being saved, you notice the new cuts and bruises to his face, ones that weren’t there last week when he came to you. 

Without thinking, you reach up and touch the cut on his lower lip, your fingers igniting his nerves. As you pull them away, you look at him. You caress his cheek with the back of your finger, “Frank, you are absolutely not the reason I left.”

You notice the ever-so-slight movement of his face relaxing once you say that.

“But you are the reason why I’d come back.”

As the words sink in, Frank’s eyes soften even more. You feel his hand slowly slide lower, his eyes never leaving yours, almost as if to challenge you to make any movements to indicate he should stop.

You don’t.

You slide your hand past his ear, to just rub your fingers in his hair near the back of his head.

He turns his head to nuzzle the inside of your forearm, his breath sending goosebumps across your skin.

“How’d you find me?” you ask softly.

He lifts his head back up to look at you, “Karen called me. Said you just up and took off of work, which we all know isn’t like you. When I went to your place, that nosy old lady a few doors down said she saw you leave with a suitcase.”

“But how’d you know I was heading this way?” You could have went anywhere.

“You told me once how relaxing driving upstate was for you. With the weather being such shit, I had Micro pull up the traffic and toll booth cameras to find you. Only tracked you so far so I just kept driving on the last road we saw you.”

He leans forward and sweetly brushes his nose against yours, “You scared me, takin’ off in the middle of all that.” He glances at the window that shows the heavy snow still falling.

You do feel ridiculous for doing what you did, especially after hearing Frank admit that.

A soft sigh, “I’m sorry. I don’t know, I just…I needed a break. I love what I do, exposing all the unfair bullshit that goes on in that city, but all of a sudden it just all felt…suffocating. I wasn’t thinking, I just needed an out for a couple days.”

You make sure he’s looking at you to see your sincerity, “But it honestly was nothing to do with you. I was going to call you to let you know I was okay once I reached wherever I ended up…but the car had other plans.”

“Do me a favor? Next time you need a break, just let me know - we can always come here.”

As you start to smile, you see a small grin form in response on his own face. Placing a light kiss to his cheek, “We?”

“I’ll follow you anywhere. You should know that by now.” His eyebrows are gently knitted together as you see both the seriousness and tenderness written all over his face.

You’re already blushing from his words when he leans in and his lips are on yours.

Your hand slides further into his hair as he pulls you closer, his lips savoring yours.

When you finally pull away, his tongue sweeps across his lower lip as he looks at your kiss swollen lips before raising his gaze to meet yours.

You smile as you lean back in, pressing a kiss to his lips. He smiles against you before bringing his hand up to cup your cheek.

You’ve never been warmer.


	24. Scars

“What about this one?” 

You point to a mark near the band of his boxer briefs.

“Delaware. Courtesy of a ‘Dogs of Hell’ asshole.”

“And these?” A few small raised pink lines clustered on the side of his rib cage.

You both had decided to go to bed a little earlier than usual. That decision led to some naked activities and now you’re both finally winding down.

Frank is sitting up against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. You’re in your pj’s - cotton shorts and a tank top. You’re straddling his thighs and his hands are up your shorts, slowly rubbing your skin.

You’ve been asking him about the origin of all his scars. You tried to stop yourself, figuring you were being annoying, but he insisted he didn’t mind talking about them.

“Iraq. Shrapnel from an IED.” You glance at him before looking back at it. You can’t even imagine the horrors he witnessed before his own family tragedy and the war that followed.

You run your fingertips over them and then another thought hits you. How many times did his wife do this? Run her hands over his scars? Over these particular ones even? You feel like you’re doing something wrong and withdraw your hand.

As usual, he knows you and how you think. He takes your hand and puts it back, “Hey, you’re fine,” he softly says, “If I didn’t want you touching me, we wouldn’t do half the things we do.” He brushes your hair behind your ear, and lowers his head slightly to catch your eye. You see the smirk on his face and feel his thumb caress your cheek.

You blush and give him a small smile. He slides his hand to your neck, thumb gently pushing on the underside of your chin and pulls you towards him as he leans forward. He kisses you softly, pulling away to look in your eyes before kissing you a second time.

When he lets go and sits back again, you smile. You move forward and gently smooth his hair back before placing a kiss on a small, white line by his hairline, “This one.”

You sit back to watch him talk. His smile is soft and his eyes distant for a minute, “Lisa. I had just rolled out from under the car when she dropped a wrench on my head. She was trying to be helpful.”

You wince at the injury but laugh softly at the story. You move his hand from your hip and hold it in yours, pointing to two small lines near his knuckles. You look at him.

“Maria. Dug her nails into my hand when Lisa was born.” You smile at the soft grin on his face.

“Frank Jr.?” you ask.

He chuckles and leans forward, pointing to a faint, white colored mark in front of his ear.

“He was learning how to use a fork and threw it.” He laughs, “I was in the line of fire.”

You nuzzle the spot sweetly with your nose before placing a kiss there.

His arms wrap around you and pull you against his chest. He kisses your temple.

As you snuggle into his chest, he holds out his right hand, palm up. You see the thin, faint, pink line that starts at the center of his palm and ends a little on his wrist. You’d barely notice it if you didn’t know about it. But you do know about it.

You trace his scar with your fingertip, his hand twitching in the slightest at the sensation, before you lay your right hand, palm up, on top of his. There’s the same scar on your palm.

You know about it because you got it with him. You two were running out of a building you had been investigating - Frank busted open a locked door only to find a bomb start ticking with barely enough time to escape. As you both just made it out, the building exploded.

Frank tackled you, throwing his body over yours. Both of you stuck your hands out, and you each cut your right hands on a large piece of jagged metal that happened to be laying where you landed.

His fingers wrap around yours and bring your palm up to his lips where he presses a kiss. You smile to yourself and kiss his jaw.

He runs his thumb over your palm “You’ll always be part of my story”, as he looks at you, his stare soft. He kisses you and you know he doesn’t just mean because of the scar.


	25. Discussion

“I’m not having this discussion again, Frank.” You say angrily.

 

“It’s not a discussion. You only need to listen to me.” 

 

You feel your adrenaline start pumping as you mentally prepare for this topic. 

 

“No, it  _ is _ a discussion. You don’t get to just tell me to stay away from you. You say something as stupid as that, than you’re listening to what I have to say too!”  

 

Frank’s jaw is clenched, his trigger finger tapping the air. You stand a couple feet in front of him, arms folded across your chest. Your eyes never leave his. 

 

“Stupid?” He asks quietly, eyes narrowing, before raising his voice a little, “Do you not remember what just happened?!  You just had a bullet graze your head. And why? Because you’re with  _ me! _ Less than inch difference and you wouldn’t be standing here right now.” 

 

You wonder if it’s a trick of your mind as the spot on your temple throbs as he mentions the wound. 

 

You two had just returned from one hell of a night. You were trying to follow a lead for a story and ended up running into Frank in the midst of one of his missions. That’s how you ended up in the middle of a gun battle. 

 

You fell immediately when the bullet grazed you. The sound of Frank yelling your name in a panic paired with his face broken with fear as he came into view are both burned into your memory. He thought he’d lost you. He thought he just watched another woman in his life be murdered right in front of him. Another woman that he cared deeply for. 

 

“But I  _ am _ standing here, Frank. I’m okay.” 

 

“And what about next time? What if next time you ain’t so lucky?!  You have any idea the kind of danger you’re in just by  _ talking _ to me? Any of these assholes find out that we’re seeing each other and you basically walk out of here with a target on your forehead. I can’t have that. I can’t have you walking around this city in fear for your life.”  

 

“But that’s the thing, I’m  _ not _ afraid,” you take a few steps closer to him. You see his eyes flicker to your temple, his mouth setting firm at the mark.

 

“You should be.” 

 

“Maybe, but I’m not. You won’t let anything happen to me. You protect me.” 

 

He scoffs, looking away from you. He shakes his head and turns back to you, hand raising to gesture to your head, “You call that being protected? If I actually protected you, that wouldn’t be there.” 

 

You step closer.

 

“So if I get a paper cut, is that your fault too? You can’t stop me from getting hurt, but that doesn’t mean you failed at protecting me, Frank.  The guy who fired the shot? You made sure he can’t do that ever again,  _ that’s _ protecting me.” 

 

His face falls slightly as he says low, “I couldn’t protect  _ them _ , what makes you believe I can protect  _ you _ ?” 

 

His family. They’ll forever haunt him. 

 

You close the final gap between you both and take his face in your hands, “I love you. That’s why I believe you can protect me. That’s also why I’ll never stay away from you. You have my heart Frank Castle, whether you like it or not.” 

 

You watch as his eyebrows knit together for a split second at those three words, before they relax. Almost like he can’t believe anyone could love the man he is now. 

 

He lightly brushes his thumb over your wound, eyes meeting yours once again, his eyes soft, “Truth is if you ever  did listen to me and stayed away, I’d still show up every time.  You’re all I want.”  He presses his forehead to yours, hands finding your hips. 

 

You wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him. You feel his arms wrap around you and his stubble rubs against your cheek. 

 

“You know I love you too, right?” He whispers against your ear. 


	26. Badge of Honor

You can feel his eyes on you. It takes everything in you not to look at him because if you do, he’ll initiate things and you’ll end up being late.  You know him so well. 

 

You’re in your underwear, standing in front of the bathroom mirror doing your make up for the fundraiser you got yourself and a guest invited to. The money being raised is for a hospital but the hospital is notorious for being backed by the mob. You just want to see which mobsters associate with who so you have something to go off of for later research. 

 

Frank got his friend Micro to be your date.  He has the knowledge and the technology to spy from a distance which will be helpful in a large room.  

 

Frank’s sitting at the kitchen table, in the seat that has a direct view into the bathroom. He was attempting to read some files you got for him, but then you walked by. 

 

He finds comfort in watching you get ready. It reminds him of when Maria would get ready for a night out. The familiarity of seeing you do the same makes him feel warm and relaxed.  

 

He can’t take his eyes off of you. Your body in that lacy set of underwear as you run a makeup brush over your face. Then you go on your tiptoes, leaning close to the mirror to do your eye makeup, which makes your ass stick out. That adorable, perfect ass of yours. Frank subconsciously licks his bottom lip. 

 

You’re too involved in getting your makeup right that you never heard his chair move; it’s not until you’re finishing putting mascara on that you hear him enter the bathroom. 

 

“Frank, what are you doing?” you smirk. 

 

He comes into view in the mirror, his hands smoothing over your ass before wrapping his arms around your waist, “Seeing if you need any help.” 

 

You finish and put the wand back in the tube, standing up, leaning against his chest. You twist the mascara shut as one of his hands comes up, brushing your slightly curled hair from your shoulder so he can kiss your neck. 

 

You lean your head back against his shoulder as he kisses all the right spots.  You barely get out, “You’re too late. I just need to put lipstick on.” You place the mascara on the sink’s edge without looking. 

 

He stops and presses a kiss to your shoulder before turning you around.  His hands move to your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks, “You might want to wait on doing that until I’m finished with you,” a smirk playing at his lips.  

 

His lips are on yours, kissing you slowly and passionately - the knee weakening combination. 

 

You grip his hips as his body gently nudges yours against the sink. As soon as he pulls away, his mouth is kissing your jaw before moving to your neck again. One of his hands moves to your lower back as your hand finds the back of his neck. 

 

The hand still on your face has its thumb by the corner of your mouth. You tilt your head to give him more room as you weakly protest, “I can’t be late.” 

 

He kisses up to right under your ear before pulling away. He lightly grazes your cheek with his nose as he moves back to your mouth. 

 

The hand on your cheek slides back into your hair and grips gently as he deepens the kiss. You push him back gently at his chest so you can catch your breath. He does the same, pressing a lazy kiss to your eyebrow as you lower your head a little. 

 

When you look back at him, you press your fingertips to his lips, “Can we put a pin in this until I get back?”  

 

He kisses your fingertips then wraps his hand around yours, pulling it away from his face. He turns your hand over and kisses the inside of your wrist, “Is that a promise?” 

 

You watch as he kisses your wrist before asking.  You slowly pull your arm from his grasp and when he looks at you, you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, “Absolutely.” 

 

He grins and goes to kiss you again but you step back, “Frank!,” you jokingly scold him. 

 

He follows you to your closet where you pull out the form-fitting black dress you’re going to wear. You step into it and slide your arms through the openings.  You sweep your hair to the side and face your back to Frank, “You mind zipping me up?” 

 

He slides his hand in under the strap of both the dress and your bra, sliding them down over your shoulder. You bite your lip as he places kiss across your shoulder to the back of your neck.  He moves the straps back up and zips up your dress.  You turn around, “Thank you.”  

 

You put on your heels and walk back to the bathroom to apply red lipstick.  When you walk back out, Frank is lacing up his boots - he’s starting to get ready to head out himself.  He looks at you when he hears you walk out.  He walks over and kisses your forehead, whispering how beautiful you look. 

 

You kiss his cheek, “Please be careful.” 

 

“You too, hear me?” He asks softly. You nod.

 

After you leave, Frank goes to the bathroom to grab a couple gauze pads to shove in his pockets just in case. He looks up and catches the sight of your red lips on his cheek. He stares at them. 

 

Is it stupid that he almost doesn’t want to wipe it off? That he sees it as a badge of honor - visible proof that he has the love of one incredible woman, a woman who only sees the man, not the beast. He smiles at the thought of you.  

 

Reluctantly he wipes it off before leaving.  

 

\--

 

When you walk into your apartment, you immediately slip off your heels. Micro said he’d get you the video and audio that you guys were able to record within a day or two. It was a successful night. 

 

“Ah, shit!” you hear.

 

You didn’t even realize the bathroom door was almost all the way closed, or the droplets of blood on the carpet leading from the window to the bathroom until you heard him. 

 

You push the bathroom door open and find Frank trying to clean a wound that is just out of his reach by the side of his ribcage. The blood from it is in a line down to the waistband of his cargo pants. 

 

“Frank! Here I got it.” You’re immediately at his side, replacing his hand with yours on the damp washcloth and gently wiping the blood from his skin. 

 

He keeps his arm up and winces every now and then, “You don’t have to, I don’t want you to get blood on that.” 

 

As you work, exchanging the washcloth for needle and thread, “You are more damn important than some stupid dress.” 

 

He smiles at your words as he looks down at you, your brows knitted together slightly in concentration as you finish up the stitches. Once you’ve tied off the last stitch, you can’t help but press a kiss right above it. You see you left behind a print of your red lips, “Crap, sorry.”  But he grasps your wrist as you go to wipe it.

 

“Leave it.” 


	27. Thankful For You

He’s been staring at his cup of coffee for the past five minutes. His back is to you as he stands at the counter, head bowed.  

 

You have a good feeling that it’s because of his family. Thanksgiving is a few days away and it’s his first one without his wife cooking up a storm in their kitchen, without his two children running amok in the house.  

 

Your heart breaks for him and you honestly don’t know what to say. Nothing will take that pain away. 

 

So you simply put your book down and stand up. You walk over to him and slowly wrap your arms around him from behind. You kiss the back of his neck, then rest your forehead between his shoulder blades.  His hands stay on the counter but you’re not offended; he’s dealing with a lot right now. 

 

After a minute you pull away, you just wanted to let him know that you’re still here for him when he’s ready.  As you turn to walk back to the couch, you feel him grab your wrist. When you turn back, you see he still hasn’t turned around, he just reached back for you.  

 

When he turns around, his hand never leaves your wrist, and he’s now leaning back against the counter.  He gently tugs you back to him, capturing you in an embrace.  You hug his torso as his lips rest against your temple, hands locked together behind your back.  

 

When you feel his lips vacate your skin, you look at him and find him already looking at you. 

 

“You going home on Thursday?” 

 

He hasn’t actually said the holiday out loud, has stuck to referring to it as ‘the 24th’ and now that it’s days away, ‘Thursday’. 

 

“No. Parents planned a vacation for themselves and my brother will be with his wife’s family out of state. And trust me, I’d rather not join them.” He doesn’t need to know that you also want to be here for him, in case he needs someone. 

 

He gives a small nod as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. 

 

“I can’t cook a big meal like that, just so you know.” You don’t even know if he is even expecting you to or if he’d even want anything resembling his past holidays, but you feel like he should know that you probably can’t give it to him anyway. 

 

You see the corner of his mouth twitch up ever so slightly, “I wouldn’t ask you to do that for me,” and then his almost smile is gone, “Especially since I won’t be here.” 

 

You really hope the disappointment doesn’t show on your face as you try to play it cool. 

 

“Where are you going to be?” You bring your hands to rest on his abdomen. 

 

“Outside of the city somewhere. I don’t think I can be here for this.” 

 

You nod and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him. He tightens his hold on you and rests his face in the curve of your neck, pressing a kiss there before lifting his head and kissing your cheek. You feel one of his hands come up and gently run down the back of your head before cradling the back of your neck as you pull back to look at him. 

 

“Whatever you need to do, Frank.” And you give a small smile to show him you’re not upset, despite the ache in your heart. 

 

He pulls you in and slowly kisses you. Your hands find his face, his ears in the crook of your thumbs. You gently scratch behind his ears causing him to smile against your lips. 

 

\--

 

He left that next day, Wednesday, so that he wouldn’t even be in the city the morning of. 

 

And today is Thanksgiving. You miss him and you feel silly for being one of those women who feels like she should be with her man just because it’s a holiday, but you do...just a little. 

 

You spend the day cleaning your apartment and sorting through old clothes and junk you have shoved away in spots.  You don’t even realize you missed dinner until you hear two quick knocks on your door. 

 

You furrow your brow as you try to figure out who the hell would be at your door on Thanksgiving at 7pm. 

 

You tiptoe to the peep hole and look through. Your mouth falls open slightly. You unlock the door, pulling it open to find Frank standing there. He’s got his signature black ball cap on and he’s holding a big, brown bag and two coffee cups in a holder.  

 

“Hey.” He says a little sheepishly. 

 

You smile, “Hi.” 

 

He walks into the apartment when you step aside and he stops in front of you as he passes, leaning in. You grasp his chin gently kissing him quick. He kisses your nose and continues inside. 

 

“What are you doing back?” You ask as he places the coffees and the bag on the counter. 

 

He takes his hat off and tosses it lightly next to the bag, he looks at you. You notice he licks his bottom lip before answering, “I miss them. I miss watching her move around the kitchen, a million things she’s got going but she’s wonder woman, she cooks the hell out of that meal. I miss Lisa twirling in her dress as she dances to the music from the parade on TV. I miss Junior laughing as I lift him up after catching the football outside…” 

 

You bite your lip gently to stop from crying. It’s taking everything in you to not let your tears well up enough to spill over. You watch him get lost in the memories as he speaks. The look of love as he mentions Maria, the small smile with Lisa, and the swell of his chest at his pride for his son catching the ball. 

 

Then he’s back with you, his eyes on yours, “...and I missed you. That smile you give me every morning, the one you have just for me.  And the way you fit so goddamn perfectly into me when we’re on the couch. I couldn’t leave my girl alone on a holiday. I might miss the three of them with everything I’ve got, but you’re the best thing I’ve got going for me. I don’t wanna screw that up.” 

 

You close the small space between you both and grasp the opened edges of his jacket and tug gently, “You could never screw this up. You’re a wonderful man.  Please, please try not to forget that.” He takes your face in his hands and sweetly presses a kiss to the corner of your top lip as you say those words. 

 

“And thank you. For coming back.” You add as you close your eyes while his lips kiss the corner of your eye, then your cheekbone on the other side. 

 

You open your eyes and see him looking at you, those crinkles at the corner of his eyes from that cute grin he has on. You smile at his handsome face and he whispers, “that’s the one” before kissing you softly. 

 

You’re blushing when you break a part. You let go of his jacket and walk over to the bag, “So what do you have here?” 

 

He shrugs his jacket off, “Couple of turkey sandwiches.” 

 

You pull them out of the bag and also pull out a small plastic tupperware of jellied cranberry sauce. You hold it up and look at him, “You’re the best.” 

 

He comes up next to you and pulls the coffees out of the cardboard carrier, “Couldn’t come back here without it, you’d probably punch me,” he glances at you with a smirk.

 

“Only a little.” You wink with a smile. 

 

He hands you a coffee and simultaneously you both sip your respective cups. You also simultaneously scrunch up your noses as you peer inside of them. Glancing at one another, you exchange cups. 

 

The kitchen table and chairs are covered in clothes and other crap you were sorting through so you both sit on the floor to eat, sitting next to each other with your backs against the wall. 

 

Along with the cranberry sauce, he also got a side of stuffing and mashed potatoes. You both just stick your forks into the containers when you want a bite. You make Frank laugh with your childhood stories of past Thanksgivings and he shares a couple of his own. 

 

When you’re both finished, you stand up and throw out the garbage. 

 

“I actually made a pumpkin pie yesterday. You want a piece?”  You look down at him for an answer. 

 

“Sounds good.” 

 

He sighs contently as he watches you take it out of the fridge and cut two slices. It gives him a hint of nostalgia to that memory of Maria moving around the kitchen. 

 

You sit back down next to him and hand him a slice. He stares at it as he brings the plate to his lap. 

 

You look at the slice and at him looking at it, “Frank?” 

 

“How could you know?” He says so quietly to himself, then he looks at you and you swear his eyes look a little glassy like he’s teared up a bit.

 

“Know what?” 

 

“Maria used to put mini chocolate chips in her pumpkin pie too.” 

 

You’re just as surprised to hear that as he was to see the same slice of pie that was part of many a Thanksgiving in the Castle household. 

 

You squeeze his thigh and he leans into you, kissing you. 

 

“You. I’m so thankful for you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving!!


	28. Welcome to Fatherhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentence prompt, "Welcome to fatherhood."

Frank went out at night as The Punisher less frequently. He had been through this twice before and he knew no matter how strong you and Maria were, a pregnant woman could always use a partner at home with them. 

 

When you first shared the news with him, you were so nervous. This man had a family once and blamed himself for losing them, how the hell would he cope with going through Round 2? 

 

_ Frank stepped in through the window, done for the night. He was used to you sometimes being awake when he got back, but you were usually reading or working on your laptop, you were never just sitting on the edge of the bed, back to him.  _

 

_ You were looking down at your hands that you were slowly wringing. He shrugged off his gear, “Hey, everything okay?”  _

 

_ The second he heard you sniffle, his heart started to race. He quickly makes his way to you and crouches down in front of you. As you look at him, he runs a hand through your hair that’s curtained around your face.  _

 

_ “I don’t know,” You have a couple stray tears on your face that he wipes with his thumb.  _

 

_ He gives you a quizzical look and you add on, “Frank, I’m pregnant.”  _

 

_ His hands are resting on your thighs and he just looks at you. You see tears slowly start to well up in his eyes.  _

 

_ “Please...don’t be mad.” Not that it’s solely your fault, but you wouldn’t be surprised if his grief caused him to be angry at the situation.  _

 

_ In almost a daze he utters, “...I’m not mad.” He slowly leans back on his heels until he’s sitting on his ass, leaning back against the wall. His knees are bent in front of him, one arm resting on a knee, while he runs his other hand over his mouth.  _

 

_ He continues, “I just...I don’t...I don’t know if I can do this again.” He looks at you, concern and worry etched on his face.   _

 

_ You’re crying quietly now. Your heart hurts for him, for you, and for this little unborn baby.  _

 

_ “If you want nothing to do with us...that’s your choice and I’d understand. But honestly...I don’t want to do this without you. I love you and I already love this baby because  _ **_we_ ** _ made it.”  _

 

_ He just watches you as you speak to him. A minute passes by of just looking at one another before he says anything, “I love you too. And shit, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love that peanut for the same reason. But I’m terrified this time around. I can’t lose another person in my life. Especially a child again. I just can’t.”  And in the dimly lit apartment, you can make out a tear roll down his cheek before he swipes it away.  _

 

_ You slowly get off the edge of the bed and lower to your knees. You move the short distance to him, where he opens his legs a little wider and wordlessly pulls you into his embrace.  He holds you close, rubbing your side slowly, never looking away from you.  _

 

_ You reach up and place your hand on his stubble covered jaw, “Before that day, were you happy?”  _

 

_ He opens his mouth slightly, before closing it. His eyebrows knit together as your question sinks in. On the surface it seems a silly thing to ask, but it makes him remember and then it doesn’t seem so silly anymore.  _

 

_ Of course he was happy before that tragic day. Every moment with Maria and the kids was pure joy for him. It was a warmth that spread throughout his body, the same feeling he gets when he’s with you.  And then it hit him, what you were trying to make him realize. Yes, one horribly tragic day caused him a lifetime of pain, but deep down he also knew what a lifetime of happiness could feel like too. And the darkness doesn’t always have to win.  _

 

_ “I was incredibly happy.”  _

 

_ A small smile breaks through on your face, “I’m also scared. I don’t know if I can do this, but I know I want to. That happiness you had…” and he cuts you off, “have”.  _

 

_ You look at him and he repeats your statement with one correction, “That happiness I  _ **_have_ ** _.  You make me happy, you make me so happy. And this little one…” he puts his warm, large hand on your stomach, “...already makes me happy too. You don’t need to be scared, I got you. We’re gonna be okay.”  _

 

Frank still had his moments of worry, but so did you. You helped each other through them and it only made your relationship stronger.  

 

One thing that made you nervous, and him sad, was how he wasn’t going to be able to be there when your little girl was born. He’s a wanted man, everyone would recognize him. But then Frank happened to grow out a short beard and you realized that paired with his hair, that grew out from that cropped cut, most people wouldn’t recognize him. So Frank kept the look and he went out less frequently so every facial injury he had would be healed and gone by the due date. 

 

The new look also helped for when Frank made late night trips to the nearby bodega to grab you your latest craving request. 

 

Then the night came when your water broke.

 

You had just stepped into the small kitchen when you felt the rush of water exit you.  You froze for a good 30 seconds before calling for Frank.  He had just finished brushing his teeth when you called, causing him to rush out of the bathroom. When he saw what happened, he immediately fell into a helpful calmness. 

 

You look at him with tears in your eyes, afraid to even move, “Oh my god. This is happening. Frank! This is happening!” 

 

He can’t help but chuckle lightly at your panicked words, “Yeah. We finally get to meet our little girl.”  He puts his hand on your cheek, thumb rubbing gently, as he looks into your eyes, “Hey, I got you. We’re gonna be okay.  You ready to meet her?” 

 

His soft touch and calming voice make you smile. You nod against his hand. He grins and kisses you. He scoops you up and helps you get into dry clothes before heading to the hospital. 

 

As you both hoped, no one recognizes Frank. He’s able to stay with you the whole time. 

 

He lets you grip his hand as hard as you can, which is probably nothing to him, as you push. And he doesn’t even hesitate to kiss your sweaty forehead and your cheek whispering encouraging words to you. 

 

The second you hear your baby girl crying, you feel him squeeze your hand. You look at each other and share a smile before he takes your face in his hands and kisses you softly. 

 

“You did it, baby. She’s here.” 

 

You both watch as the nurses clean the newest member of your little family before walking over with her wrapped in a hospital blanket. 

 

You touch his bicep, “Frank, you hold her first.” You just want him to have this moment first. He needs it the most.  

 

As the nurse hands him his daughter, she smiles as she cheerfully says, “Welcome to fatherhood.” 

 

If she only knew that for Frank it was ‘Welcome back.'


	29. Talk with the (Dare)devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one just mentions Frank x Reader; it's a drabble of Frank and Matt talking

Frank’s finished for the night.  It was quick and painless…for him.  He’s packed up his sniper rifle and has grabbed his bag.  He’s ten steps from leaving the roof when Daredevil comes up from the same fire escape he was about to descend. 

 

Frank stops dead in his tracks and rolls his eyes, “For fuck’s sake.”

 

Matt chooses to ignore that greeting and gets right to the point, “You need to leave her alone.”

 

Frank laughs incredulously, “When the hell you gonna learn that Page isn’t in any more danger because of me than she is from her own doing?  She can take care of herself, Red.  I think her and I have both told you that enough times.”

 

Matt doesn’t laugh and he continues standing in front of Frank’s only exit, “I’m not talking about Karen.”

 

Frank loses the tiny bit of humor he had in him.  He narrows his stare and he feels his trigger finger start twitching.  Matt hears his heartbeat speed up and he knows Frank realizes who he’s talking about. 

 

Frank raises his eyebrows and between gritted teeth, “You need to mind your own fucking business.”

 

“Protecting these people is my business, Frank.  Including those you’re sleeping with.”   He hears the thud of Frank’s bag drop followed by the few quick heavy footsteps before he feels Frank breathing within an inch of his face. 

 

“The hell you know that? You creepin’ around like some fucking pervert, Murdock?”  It’s taking everything in Frank to not knock him out where he stands; he even briefly toys with the idea of throwing him off the roof altogether.

 

“Heard your heartbeat one night, rapid, like you might have been in trouble.  Paired with the…uh…groans…figured I’d do the right thing and get you some help.  Didn’t expect to hear another rapid heartbeat with you…and similar, albeit female sounds.” 

 

Frank’s forearm is against his windpipe, his hand on the back of his head pushing him against it “You don’t talk about her, especially like that, you got it?!”

 

Matt shoves him hard against the chest, succeeding in knocking him off balance enough to get him to let go and to take a quick stumble back. 

 

“Frank, you need to tell her the truth then move on.  She’s an innocent person mixed into your bullshit.  She deserves to know what kind of life you have before she’s killed because of it!”  

 

Frank is seething but at Matt’s latest statement he can’t help but give a quick chuckle, “Fucking altar boy” he mutters under his breath.

 

“I ain’t like you, Red. I don’t lie to the people I care about.  You think she doesn’t know who I am? What I do?  You think I make up some shitty excuse for my beaten mug?  Nah, she knows.  She knows all of it.”

 

Frank smirks when he sees Matt’s mouth drop open at that news.  He crosses his arms over his chest, waiting for his next retort.

 

“She knows you murder people every night?  Torture people?” 

 

“I don’t give her the gory details and she don’t ask, but yeah she knows.  She’s seen me covered in blood, my own and others.  She’s seen my skin slashed apart and bruises the size of my thigh.  And you know what she does?”  He asks as he drops his arms to his side and slowly walks closer to Matt, “She pulls me inside.  She insists on helping clean me up, on stitching me, and caring for me.  She ain’t afraid.” 

 

“Does she realize that she should be?”

 

Frank’s nostrils flare and he cracks his neck, “You really think you’re the almighty Lord and Savior, huh?  A guy dressed like the freakin’ devil.  You think I wouldn’t give my life for her?! You think I dragged some poor girl into my fucked up world just for a nightly screw?   Fuck you, Red. Really…fuck you.”

 

As Frank picks up his bag, ready to push past this asshole in red and get home to you, Matt takes a step forward, voice quieter than it has been, “…you love her.”   He hears it in Frank’s heartbeat, in his breathing, in the way his blood is coursing through his veins. 

 

Frank stares at him, lets the words sink in.  It’s not a question, it’s a statement from a human lie detector. 

 

Frank continues walking, purposefully bumping his shoulder into Matt’s before stopping.  He turns his head slightly to the side, towards Matt, “Like I said, I’d give my goddamn life for her.” 


	30. You First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick drabble

You had just walked in and slipped your shoes off at the door when Frank came in through the window.  

 

You saw a superficial cut on his neck and blood dripping from his fingertips, which meant he had a cut somewhere under that jacket.  

 

You both look at eachother for a second before the familiar routine kicked in. You both shrug off your jackets and head towards the bathroom. 

 

He grasps your forearm, “Woah, hey. What happened to you?” 

 

There’s no way to hide a limp, “It’s nothing. I twisted my ankle on the way to work this morning. I’ll ice it after we take care of you.” 

 

He moves in front of you, facing you, “You’ve been walking on it all day?” 

 

You shrug, “Well, yeah, but it’s just a little painful. It’s alright.”  Lie. If you step wrong, you almost fall to the ground. 

 

His arms have several slashes, blood trailing down them, but he doesn’t move. His eyes on yours, furrowed brow, and you know him. 

 

“Frank, no. You first.” 

 

“Like hell.” Too fast for you to struggle, he picks you up in his arms and walks to the kitchen. Placing you on the table, “Just stay there, will you?” He turns and goes into the bathroom. 

 

Gingerly you get down and limp into the bathroom after him. 

 

He turns around at hearing you, ace bandage in his hand, and rolls his eyes in exasperation. 

 

“Christ! Would you just listen to me?” He wraps an arm around your thighs and lifts you over his shoulder. 

 

“Your arm! What are you doing? You’re the one bleeding! I’m not.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah.” He brushes you off, sitting you back on the table. He glances at you with a trace of a smirk and a small shake of the head. 

 

He lifts up your leg, the one with the bum ankle, and rolls your pant leg up. Your ankle is obviously swollen.

 

“You look like you got half an apple in there, shit.” 

 

He looks at you, “Stay right here. Got it? Could you just stay right here for me?” 

 

You playfully glare at him for a few seconds, “...fine.” 

 

With a quick nod, he walks the short distance to the cabinet beneath the sink. He pulls out a ziploc bag and fills it with ice. He walks back over to you and pulls a chair over. He puts a foot on the chair and rests your ankle on his knee.  You watch as he wraps your ankle with one layer of the ace bandage before placing the makeshift ice pack over the swollen area and keeping it in place by continuing to wrap the ace bandage around. 

 

When he’s finished, he looks at you, “There. Tonight you sleep with it elevated.” 

 

You give him a small smile, “Thank you.” 

 

He gives a little grin and gently puts your leg down and takes his foot off the chair, sliding it over. 

 

“Can I please take care of you now?” You ask.

 

He gives a shy smile. He never thought he’d have a woman caring about him like this again. 

 

“Like I’d say no.” He picks you up and carries you into the bathroom. 

 


	31. Small Red Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this quick; inspired by something I saw at a store

It’s been two weeks since that boat explosion and you’re about ready to finally accept that Frank did in fact die in it.  If he made it out alive you were sure he’d have contacted you by now because he must know how worried sick you’d be. 

 

But that all changes that morning. 

 

As you’ve done every morning since that day, as soon as you wake up you look at your window. You look for any indication that Frank had stopped by. With no signs in two weeks, today you finally get one. 

 

Sitting on your window sill is a brown, paper bag with your name scrawled on it - in Frank’s block handwriting.  Tears immediately spring to your eyes at knowing that he’s alive! You smile and wipe some tears as you open the window and grab the bag. 

 

You uncrumple the top and stick your hand in, pulling out the gift.  Inside is a simple white mug. Painted on the side in black paint and beautiful handwriting is ‘Good Morning Beautiful’ with a small red heart painted next to it.  

 

You smile big and hug it to your chest as you stick your head out the window in hopes that Frank decided to stick around. You don’t see him. 

 

You walk into your little kitchen and make a cup of coffee with your new mug. 

 

\--

 

Frank waits until he knows you’re most likely asleep before stopping by to check on you. 

 

He peers in the window and smiles when he notices the mug he got you sitting on your counter next to the coffee machine.  God, he misses you so much but it’s just not safe yet. 

 

His foot brushes against something causing the object to crinkle. He looks down and sees a brown, paper bag.  As he picks it up, he sees it's the same one he left you. Under your name you’ve added ‘+ Frank’.  He smiles and reaches inside the bag. 

 

He pulls out a simple, white mug. When he reads the painted words on the side he has to stifle a laugh before a huge grin spreads across his face.

  
You two, for obvious reasons, always had opposite sleeping schedules, so it’s only fitting that his says ‘Good Night Handsome’, complete with a small red heart painted next to it. 


	32. Side Effects

_He rounds the corner of the warehouse and he hears whimpering.  He can’t remember how he got here or what’s taken place but he carries himself forward.  He spots Red first, standing in silent prayer, head bowed slightly, as he faces an unknown scene.  A stack of crates blocks Frank’s own vision of whatever it could be.  As he continues forward, Red’s head jerks up and makes a quick, but hesitant step in front of Frank, “It’s not a good idea, Frank.”_

_The whimpering is louder, female.  He shoves his forearm against Matt’s chest and pushes him aside, confused as to what could be awaiting him.  He turns the corner of the crates and his whole world falls apart for the second time in his life._

_Your lifeless body lays on the cold, hard concrete floor.  Those eyes that once exuded such a beautiful light, one that broke through his layers of darkness every single day, are open but lifeless. Void of any indication that an amazing soul once homed inside._

_Karen is cradling your upper body, grieving over the loss of her friend; another lost soul to add to her collection that she never meant to have.  When Karen’s eyes find his, there’s a darkness behind them that chills him to the core.  Her tear stained cheeks are illuminated by the lights hanging overhead._

_“Where the hell were you?!”_

_He feels himself stagger back a step or two, hand coming up to swipe at the side of his head.  He’s having trouble focusing; it feels like every ounce of air has been knocked out of him.  You can’t be dead._

_“She trusted you!  You were supposed to protect her!”  Karen won’t stop screaming at him._

_His eyes move between your body and her now dark, grey eyes.  He vaguely feels Matt’s presence still around.  His brow furrows as he tries so goddamn hard to remember what happened, how the hell you ended up like his family._

_He blinks several times as Maria starts pulsing in and out in place of Karen, her voice included.  And every time Maria blinks in, there’s Lisa’s body instead of yours.  In those fleeting moments, those same screams are coming at him from a bloody Maria as she cradles their firstborn in her arms._

_He fucked up again.  He royally fucked up again.  The grief and heartbreak that consumes his entire being is mixed in with an instant sense of loneliness.  You were his person.  The wonderful woman who saw into his soul, saw the grieving father and husband lost underneath the hard exterior of the vicious murderer he now was.  The one person who miraculously understood him and gave him a partner in life that he had never thought he’d find again.  With you gone, he’s lost the last good thing he would ever have, the last love he would have ever known.  He couldn’t do this a third time, there’s no way.  You had been the special exception he thought he’d never make.  The one who molded herself into the last few pieces of heart he had left after the murder of his family._

_“Frank! Answer me! Where the hell were you?!”_

You’re asleep on your side, facing him.  His hand is lightly gripping your thigh, your arms hugging his that’s in front of you.  Your legs are hugging one of his, feet sandwiching one of his. 

 

You vaguely register him moving, you’re still too deep asleep to wake from it.  You also will remember vaguely hearing him mumbling but again, your body stays in slumber. 

 

He wakes with a start and immediately glances at you.  Nightmare, it was…was a nightmare.  His head is pounding and he’s trying to catch his breath.  He detangles himself from you and swings his legs over the side of the bed, sitting up.   It’s him moving away from you that causes you to groggily open your eyes.  You see the muscles of his back as he hunches over slightly, resting his eyes in the palms of his hands as he leans on his elbows that are propped on his knees. 

 

You notice his sides moving in and out rapidly from his anxiety riddled breathing.  As you sit up, the glow of the streetlights reveal a sheen of sweat to his skin.  You move the sheets back and sit up, moving towards him on your knees.   

 

“Frank?”  You whisper, before sliding your arms around his waist from behind, chin resting on his shoulder.  The clammy feeling of his skin does nothing to deter you from your actions.   

 

No warm hand finds yours on his stomach, no head turns to kiss yours instead he stays locked in his position. 

 

Being this close, you hear him.  He’s so quiet but you hear something.  You reach your hand up from his torso and sleepily grab his chin, your hand covering the corner of his mouth.   His lips are fluttering against the corner of your palm and you realize the small sound you hear is him mumbling.  

 

You have seen him do this before.  In moments of stress, whereas his body would never give him away, his mouth does.  You’ve caught him mumbling between sentences.  It’s something you aren’t even sure he realizes he’s doing.  You had looked it up once and it was in fact a side effect of damage to the part of the brain where a bullet found his.

 

It never fails to make your heart clench in sadness for him. 

 

You rub your thumb against the low grit of his stubble that blankets his jawline.  You withdraw your hand from his face and slide your hands back to his sides, then slowly run them up to his ribcage.  You press several kisses along his shoulder blades before leaving a few on the back of his neck. 

 

“Frank?” you try again.  He doesn’t lift his head, but he drops his arms so they hang crossed between his knees.  He turns his face only slightly to the left so you see his cheek, but his eyes stay glued to the carpet of your apartment. 

 

In a gravelly voice, sounding more bone-weary than you have ever heard him, he asks quietly, “What are you even doing with me?”   It’s not accusatory and there’s no malice behind it.  He asks it as if he’s asked himself a million times before and he’s giving it one last chance to be answered. 

 

Before you can even utter a word, he stands up and walks to the foot of the bed, pacing; your hands fall to the sheets at his abrupt absence and your head follows his movements. 

 

You don’t move from your knees where he left you behind.  His question causes a flood of ache to consume your chest. 

 

“…what?” you ask in disbelief.   

 

He rubs his forehead, eyes squeezed shut, before opening them to glance at you.  He continues his pacing, eyes drawn to the floor. 

 

“You heard me.” 

 

You take a quick, quiet inhale of breath.  This is a side of him you hadn’t seen in a long time.  He used to do this more frequently, try to push you away.  He’d get angry, his tone harsh, try to make you feel like you were making the biggest mistake of your life by wanting to be near him.  It pissed you off and that’s why he did it.  He honestly believed it could break you, make you so pissed off that you would be done with him permanently.   The funny thing is, if you could even call it that, is that he _had_ to do that because he knew he could never be the one to walk away from you.   The remnants of his heart were all brandished with your name; he knew he could never just give you up.  If you would have only screamed at him with hatred, it would have given him a memory to think of whenever he found himself heading to your place, it would have made him turn around.  But he should have known better.  The love you gave was bordering his with the same fierceness and loyalty.  Not even an angry, murdering, vigilante could scare the love from your heart. 

 

You thought he was done with this.  He had pushed so many times before, you never budged, and he had stopped.  He had finally allowed someone to care about him again.  He allowed someone to cherish his soul again. 

 

He rubs his forehead again and you’re concerned at what is happening in that mind of his, a mind so dangerous in its memories and thoughts that sometimes it wasn’t safe for even him. 

 

You stand up and walk over to him, halting him from the line he’s been walking, “How could you ask me that?”

 

You take note of his trigger finger tapping against his thigh as he squeezes his other hand in and out of a fist, “You’ll die if you stay with me. You know that.” 

 

He’s looking right at you when he says it.  You’d never tell him, but it sends a chill down your spine because he says it like he’s seen your death happen already. 

 

You place your hands on his chest, “You need to take a second and breathe.  Your heart is racing a mile a minute, you’re not thinking straight right now.”

 

He gives a sarcastic, brief laugh, “I ain’t ever thinkin’ straight. That’s the problem. I ain’t right up here,” he taps his temple, “The sooner you realize that, the longer you stay alive.”   He turns and paces the other way, but this time his hand flies to the wall.  A groan slips out of him as you see him use his arm to support himself.  His eyes squeeze shut and his head drops, his other hand gripping at his forehead. 

 

You move to him immediately, tucking yourself under his arm.  You place one hand on his stomach and one on his back, “You need to sit down.”   You try to control your own breathing as your heart rate picks up from worry at this episode he seems to be having. 

 

He turns in your grasp to lean back against the wall, your hand moves from his back to his bicep.  As he slowly slides to the ground, you follow his descent, kneeling in front of him. 

 

His eyes are still squeezed shut and you see his mouth moving again in mumbles.  You finally feel tears start prickling at the corner of your eyes.  You had been doing so well at keeping them at bay but seeing Frank so torn up like this is enough to shred your insides. 

 

You move between his spread knees and you gently cradle his face in your hands.  You press your forehead to his eyebrow and close your eyes as a couple tears fall.

 

The only thing you can think of to help him through this is to just talk to him.

 

“I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper close to his skin.  You swallow down a sob when you feel his hands smooth along your arms.  You open your eyes and pull back enough to look at him, hands still on his face.  His eyes are on yours, one single tear sliding from the corner of his right eye that catches on your thumb, coating it.  He looks a little more aware now.

 

“It hurts.” And you know he means his head.  Another side effect you remember reading about. 

 

“I know,” You kiss his forehead, “You’ll be okay.”

 

He wraps his arms around your back so you slide your arms around his neck.  He stretches his legs out in front of him, sitting you on top of this thighs as he hugs you tight.  His nose presses into your neck, lips on your skin.  You feel his lips flutter again, but it’s not to mumble, it’s to quietly plead to you or to some unknown entity, “I can’t lose you.  You’re the best thing I have, I can’t lose you.” 

 

You lovingly caress the back of his head as you hear his words.

 

 “You won’t.  Not while I can help it.” 

 

And you feel like your heart might burst when you feel the slightest twitch of his lips quirk into the hint of a smile at your response. 

 

He lifts his face up and brushes some hair from your face softly.  You grip his hand before he can pull it away, “I need you to listen to me…”  He looks at you as he slips his fingers between yours.

 

“I want every part of you, Frank.  Even the ones you think are broken.  You aren’t perfect, but I don’t want perfect.  I just want you,” his hand squeezes yours as the arm around your waist holds you even closer. 

 

He slips his hand from your hold to cup your cheek and pull your face to rest against his, “Please don’t ever wonder why I’m with you.  Please.  You need to know how worth it you are because you are, you’re so worth it.”  You squeeze his shoulder in emphasis as he pulls back to look at you, and kisses the few tears that have spilled over onto your cheeks. 

 

“I ever tell you how much I love you?” 

 

From that question alone, you know he’s back.  His head might still ache but he’s made it through the fog and found his way back to you.  He followed your voice, is what he’ll tell you later.

 

Despite the tears, you manage a small smile, “Every day,” you whisper.


	33. First Snowfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to write something fun and light hearted but Frank is a little more OOC than usual

He only got in a couple hours ago, but you’re finding it hard to care at the moment when you happened to have woken up and saw it was snowing. 

 

It’s the first snowfall of winter! You always get super excited about the first snowfall of the season; it always feels like such a pure, magical moment.  

 

It’s pretty late, very few people are probably even walking around right now. You curl into Frank a little more and nudge his jaw with your nose gently, “Frank?”, kissing his cheek.  

 

He doesn’t open his eyes, but his hand starts rubbing your back, “Yeah?” 

 

“It’s snowing!” You say in a quiet excitement and wiggle against him for a brief second. 

 

He grins at how enthusiastic you seem to be and opens his eyes to look at you, “You know that happens every year right?” His eyes glance over your face, the bend of his finger trailing down your nose before he kisses the tip of it. 

 

You roll your eyes playfully and cup his cheek, “Yeah, but it’s the  _ first _ snowfall.” 

 

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” He teases with a grin, kissing your cheek then nuzzling against it. 

 

You slide your hand up his forearm to rest on his bicep that’s flexed underneath your palm. 

 

“Let’s go for a walk. Please? It’s probably so beautiful and peaceful right now.” 

 

You feel his breath from a quick snort hit your cheek. He pulls back from your face to look at you. He stares at you, with his eyebrow raised and the corner of his mouth quirked up, for a good 20 seconds before, “Alright, let’s go.” 

 

You smile and kiss him before you’re both getting out of bed and pulling out warm clothes to put on. You pull on your jeans and some cozy socks.  The only extra mile that Frank takes is doubling up on his long-sleeved thermal shirts before throwing his jacket and ball cap on.  He watches as you pull on a sweater and go to grab your coat before he hands you his grey zip up hoodie. 

 

You look at it, then look at him. 

 

“For me? We’re going upstate on Friday, don’t forget. I don’t want you to be sick for the weekend.”  

 

You smirk and take the hoodie, pulling it on. He steps closer and zips it up for you, “That’s my girl.” He takes your chin in his hand and kisses you. 

 

You pull your coat on over the hoodie, making sure to pull the hood out from underneath. As you grab your gloves, Frank’s handing you your winter beanie. You thank him and pull it on.

 

When you walk outside into the chilly air, Frank shoves his hands in his coat pockets and sticks his elbow out towards you. You snake your arm through his, finding his hand in his pocket. He laces his fingers with yours and rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. You holding onto the crook of his elbow with your other arm and give it a little squeeze, “See! It’s so beautiful,” you lean your head back and close your eyes as you walk with him. 

 

Frank looks at you. Your nose and cheeks are already rosy from the cold and that smile on your face is one of the best things in his life. He watches as your eyes close to just feel the cold, crisp air and the snowflakes hit your skin, “Yeah, it really is,” he says in response, eyes on you. 

 

You walk to a little park several blocks away and are glad to see the snow has accumulated a good amount since leaving the apartment.  

 

You break away from him, put on your gloves, and bend down scooping snow into your hands. He sees you balling it up and he takes a step back, “Be smart about this.” 

 

You grin mischievously and continue packing the snowball, “Whatever do you mean?” 

 

“Don’t think you’re safe because you’re cute. I’ll have to retaliate if you do this.” His hands haven’t left his pockets and despite his words, he still stands as relaxed as Frank Castle can be. 

 

You turn your head a little to give him something akin to a side eye, questioning if you believe him.

 

You make up your mind. 

 

You both watch as the snowball flies through the air and hits him dead center, exploding on impact. As Frank looks down, then slowly lifts his head to look at you, you laugh and cover your mouth with both hands. 

 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” He pulls his hands out of his pockets and rubs them together before grabbing some snow. 

 

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise when you realize what you’ve started. You quickly grab more snow and try to pack your snowball faster than he does.  

 

You get hit in the thigh, not as hard as you figured he could probably have thrown it.  Your mouth drops open and looks at your leg before looking at him, “Oh, it’s on!” 

 

“Bring it on, baby.” 

 

You two proceed to get into a snowball fight. Frank obviously dials down his strength and you wish that was your excuse too; a couple of your snowballs don’t even break a part after hitting him, but it makes him laugh and that is one of the sweetest sounds.  

 

You raise your arm to throw one when you see him hold his palm out, signaling to stop. 

 

He twists his cap around to sit backwards on his head as he crouches down. He punches his palm quick before holding his palms up, “Show me what ya got.” 

 

You lean your head back and give a quick laugh before looking at him again. You see the smirk on his face and you swear your heart melts. It hits you that this is the most loose you’ve ever seen Frank before. It’s the most playful and carefree and you wonder if this is a glimpse at the old Frank.  You don’t know if it’s because it seems like you two are in your own special world right now or if it's the magic of the first snowfall, but you don’t want to miss any part of this side of him. 

You turn to the side and spread your legs a little and narrow your eyes at him with a grin you can’t hide. 

 

He knows what you’re doing and can’t help but narrate a little, “She steps up to the plate…” 

 

You adjust your beanie for show, then lean on your thigh to stare at him. 

 

He chuckles and holds two fingers out between his legs, you shake your head. He holds out three fingers, “Hey slugger, you have any idea what they even mean?” 

 

You nod at the three fingers and stand up straight again, “No clue!” and you wind your arm back.

 

“She winds up for the pitch…” 

 

You throw the snowball as hard as you can into his hands.  It explodes in his hands and you throw your arms up in some unknown victory. 

 

You run over to him and jump into his arms as he stands up. With the snow accumulating the whole time, he loses his balance with his feet sunken in and falls back on his ass with you ending up in his lap. 

 

You’re both chuckling as your eyes find each other. The amusement drops to adoring smiles on both faces.  You pull your glove off and reach up wiping some snow from his stubble. Before you can finish, he cradles your cheek and kisses you.  His lips are unsurprisingly cold, but mixed with the warmness of your breaths, it makes for one unforgettable kiss.  And with the snow falling all around, on the two of you with no one else around, it’s also an unforgettable memory. 

 

“Thank you for coming out with me.” 

 

He kisses you again, slower and more passionate than the last one. You love everything about his kisses, even down to the feeling of his nose brushing against yours when he moves to tilt his head to the other side. 

 

“I’d do anything for you.” 

 

You feel heat pool across your face as you press one more kiss to his lips.  As you hug him, he holds onto you and stands up with you.  You reach behind him and grab the brim of his hat, turning it to face forward again. 

 

You two make your way back to the apartment just as the sun starts to rise.  You both shed your outer layers of clothing and your shoes.  Frank moves into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee and you grab the blanket off the couch, wrapping it around you.  As he waits, he turns around and sees you still shaking a little from being outside.  He walks over and leans down, throwing you over his shoulder. Before you can even ask, between giggles, what he’s doing, he’s pulling the sheets back on the bed and laying your blanket wrapped body down. He climbs in next to you and pulls the sheets up over both of you. 

 

“What about your coffee?” 

 

He pulls you close and kisses your forehead, “What about it? I can’t have you cold and shaking, not on my watch,” He kisses your neck. 


	34. No Christmas

You absolutely love Christmastime. The lights twinkling in the night, the Christmas trees shining through windows, and all the holiday songs - the old and the new ones.  Your apartment is relatively small but you still get a six foot tree instead of one of those tabletop ones because it’s just a must have. Yes, your apartment feels a little smaller when it’s up, but once you plug those lights in, it’s totally worth it. 

 

Frank hates Christmas. He never used to, but having your family murdered right in front of you tends to dampen any cheer for the holidays. He seems a little more grumpy leading up to December, probably from having to pass all the Christmas decorations that everyone put up right after Thanksgiving. 

 

After Thanksgiving is when you usually decorated your apartment but you knew Frank wanted nothing to do with the holiday because he told you so one night laying in bed...

 

“Listen, I just want to tell you that I probably won’t be coming by anymore or staying the night. I can’t do the whole...Christmas thing. And once you put up your stuff, I don’t think I can be here. But I promise, the new year I’ll be right back here,” he ends with a little smirk to try and lighten his words. 

 

The thoughts instantly start racing through your head - 

 

_ I don’t want to go a whole month without seeing him.  _

 

_ Would the decorations end up helping him cope? No, definitely not.  _

 

_ I could go one year, right? One Christmas, no cheer? Oh man, I don’t know.  Damn it. I love him too much to go 31 days without hearing his voice.  _

 

“That’s okay actually because I never got around to buying decorations since moving here so you don’t have to worry about that.” 

 

It’s dark so you think that’s why you were able to get away with the lie; normally he could call bullshit on your lies, not that you did it often, but you usually threw him a little one here and there so he wouldn’t worry about you. 

 

Frank did believe you at first. But then the few times you two took one of your nightly strolls, he’d look at you when you weren’t looking - something he always did - and he saw the way your eyes lit up at all the Christmas decorations that you’d pass. He caught the small smile on your soft, pink lips and heard you humming along to the Christmas songs that would sneak out of stores’ opened doors. 

 

He had a good feeling that you loved Christmas so your story of not buying decorations just didn’t add up. 

 

Then the night came that he asked you if you happened to have an old bike, something about using it for parts if you didn’t mind. You did have one, “it’s down in my storage locker in the basement”. He grabbed the key from the drawer you pointed at and went down to the basement of the building. He unlocked the door to the locker and immediately saw the bike leaning against the wall, he just had to move some boxes out of the way. 

 

He grabbed the first box, the one marked ‘X-mas Tree Decorations’. He slowly puts it down and opens it. And sure enough there’s strings of multi-colored lights, some ornaments, and a gold star for the top.  He closes it up and moves it. The box underneath is marked ‘other X-mas decorations’.  He opens this box too and he’s struck by the first two items sitting on top - two stockings one with your name and also one with his.

 

_ She got me a stocking. She wanted to hang it up next to hers, wanted to include me in her holiday.  _

 

He got the bike and carried it back up to your apartment. You were so enthralled in your book that it never occurred to you that he might have seen those boxes. You just looked up and smiled, “Oh good, you got it.” 

 

“Yeah, thank you.” He keeps looking at you after you go back to reading. 

 

_ \-- _

 

It’s the week of Christmas. You trudge through the snow to your building. You love the snow; you hope it snows on Christmas day so you can enjoy a little bit of the holiday.  

 

You get inside and walk up the few flights of stairs to your door. You take off your gloves and shove them in your pocket before digging in your purse for your key. 

 

The sound of ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside’ is heard muffled from a few doors down causing you to smile. It also makes you yearn for the sight of Christmas in your apartment. But you’d take having Frank in your life over Christmas any day. 

 

You unlock the door and push it open. 

 

There’s a fresh, six foot tree decorated with your multi-colored lights and the gold star on top. 

 

And pinned to the wall next to it is your stocking and Frank’s.  And there’s Frank, standing almost awkwardly as he watches for your reaction. 

 

Your mouth falls open slightly as you take in the sight. Then you look at him. 

 

“But...you don’t like this…” you’re so confused but also so happy. 

He walks over to you as he explains, “Found your boxes that night I got the bike. Figured it was a little odd considering you never got around to getting any decorations…” he throws you a smirk getting him your blushing cheeks in response. 

 

“I didn’t want you to leave for a month.” 

 

“So you pretended to not love something that you so clearly do?” 

 

He watches as you give a little shrug, still clearly embarrassed. 

 

“I opened the boxes when I was down there and found the stocking you got me.  I realized that for a woman to pretend to not care about Christmas for me and to actually get me a stocking...well she must care about me an awful lot.” 

 

You just listen and watch as he stops right in front of you.

 

“She does,” you say quietly. 

 

He wraps his arms around your waist, “I care about her a lot too. Was thinking of how to show you and...well...this was it.” 

 

You slide your hands up his biceps, “I don’t want to keep this all up if it’s going to make you upset and keep you away.” 

 

“Look, I didn’t think I could handle this. My kids loved Christmas, Maria loved Christmas. They made our house beautiful. I miss them so much.  I miss their smiles at the lights and their voices singing to the songs, but you remind me of them. You smile at the lights too, you sing along to the songs. I can’t spend it with them anymore, but I can spend it with you. And you make it just as beautiful as they did.”

 

He wipes a stray tear from your cheek as he finishes, “With you, it doesn’t hurt. I should have realized that sooner - it never hurts when you spend Christmas with the ones you love.” 

 

And as every single thing he says sinks in, his last statement ties it up with a bow. 

 

_ The ones you love. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!!


	35. Ghost of Christmas Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title should give you an idea of what this is about. I must warn you that this is a little painful so I'm sorry lol

Frank holds your hand as you walk down the streets of Dyker Heights in Brooklyn.  Every year, all the houses in the neighborhood do grand, magical light displays for Christmas; it’s a big attraction during this time of year. 

 

You mentioned to Frank how you’d always wanted to check it out and he suggested that you both go.  He had grown a beard in recent months but you were still more worried about him being recognized than he seemed to be.  He just threw on his usual baseball cap, pulled it a little low and he was comfortable enough to take you. 

 

You each held a cup of coffee in your free hand as you strolled along with the groups of other sightseers to the Christmas lights.  Frank talked more openly about his family now; when he saw a big light display in the shape of a Dinosaur he didn’t hesitate to say how much Lisa would have loved that.  When he saw a little boy on the shoulders of his father, Frank pointed out how Frank Jr. had loved when Frank carried him around like that.  And about Maria, a smile and simply, “She would have loved this as much as you do.”  

 

On the crowded subway, back into Manhattan, Frank held you close.  With his one hand gripping the pole you’re leaned against his other arm was wrapped around your waist holding you close to him.  You had your arms wrapped around his torso, inside his jacket. Any slight jostle of the subway car never moved Frank and it was so poignant of who he is; his feet firmly planted, his posture straight but relaxed with you in his arms – nothing could make him stumble, he’s a soldier through and through.  As he rubbed small circles on your back, he kissed your forehead getting you to look at him.  As soon as your eyes found his, he gave you a soft smile and leaned in, kissing you.  It was slow and sweet and so Frank. 

 

Walking from the subway station towards your apartment, you two looked like any other normal couple.  Frank had his arm around your shoulders, yours around his waist.  He’d pull you close at times and he’d press a kiss to the side of your head.  A few times, while waiting for the light to change to cross a street, he pulled you aside from the crowd of pedestrians and gently pushed you up against the nearest wall.  His hands would snake around your waist with your hands pulling at the collar of his jacket as he grinned and kissed you. By the time you two pulled away from each other, it was a completely different group of people waiting for the light. 

 

It continues like that until you’re back inside your apartment.  He takes his cap off and shrugs off his jacket, you too take yours off, never looking away from one another.  As soon as the jackets get placed to the side, his hand is in your hair and under your shirt. Your fingernails are gently scratching the back of his scalp as his mouth is on yours.  As you both make your way to the bed, clothes are shed and tossed aside.  As has been done almost every night since you two admitted feelings for the other, Frank makes love to you.  He can never get enough of hearing your breathy gasps and sweet moans; the feeling of your smooth, soft skin against his. 

 

His forehead is pressed against your shoulder briefly where he kisses you.  When he lifts his face to look at you, you’re wearing a satisfied smile which makes his heart skip.  He leans on his forearm and puts his hand on your cheek brushing his thumb across your chin.  The sight of your slightly parted lips urges him to skim his thumb along your lower lip, the tip just barely touching your top one.  As his thumb rests near the corner of your mouth he kisses you, you feel his thumb glide across your cheekbone.  You lightly drag your nails up the sides of his back and he responds by slipping his tongue into the kiss.  His hair is sexily disheveled and you can’t help but run your hand through it.  Frank leans down placing small, light kisses in random spots around your face as he tells you how beautiful you are between each one. 

 

His beard tickles at spots causing you to giggle quietly getting a grin out of him.  He smooths his hand over your hair and presses a kiss to your lips before looking at you.  You reach up and give his beard a little scratch before running your fingertips across it, “What is it?” 

 

“I love you.” 

 

Your hand doesn’t move from his face but you pause your actions as those three words sink in.  He would never say that if he didn’t truly mean it. 

 

He wipes a tear from the corner of your eye, one you didn’t even realize was there as you were lost in his eyes and his words.

 

“I have for a while now, just was afraid to say it out loud I think.  I ain’t normally a superstitious guy but thought if I said it, I might jinx this somehow,” as he continues, your heart simply aches at how precious his words are, “but I need you to know that I love you.  What we have, it means everything – you mean everything.”

 

A smile is on your face, one that matches his, “Frank…” you sort of whine, but it comes out so quiet.

 

He chuckles softly, “What?” 

 

“You’re making me cry,” you cover your mouth with your hand as a nervous giggle mixed with a small, quiet sob comes out.

 

“I see that,” he smirks as he leans down and kisses another tear away from the corner of your eye.  He then kisses the side of your face and then your cheek.  You put your hand on the back of his head and turn your face into his.  He pulls back just enough that his nose brushes yours and he can look at you. 

 

“I love you too. So much.”

 

“I know you do. You’ve told me without having to say it. It gave me more reason to tell you, I didn’t want you to think it was one-sided.” 

 

You scratch the back of his head and whisper against his lips, “Come here, Frank,” and you kiss him as he smiles.  

 

__

 

During the night you had gotten up to throw on some leggings and one of Frank’s henleys because the heating in your apartment was finicky and you were still cold even with Frank wrapped around you.  You couldn’t have been more glad you made that decision with what was about to happen.

 

You wake up and it’s still dark outside.  Something feels off but you can’t place it as you get out of bed.  You turn to look at Frank and you gasp. 

 

You’re staring at you and Frank still asleep in bed.  How the hell could that be?

 

“Hey.” 

 

You spin around at the voice and find a six-foot-tall soldier in your apartment, standing behind you.  You start backing up but find you’re not bumping into the bed behind you, you look down and see you’re standing IN the corner of the mattress. 

 

“Wh…what is happening?!  Am I dead?  Who the hell are you?!”  You’re so scared and confused.  Why isn’t Frank waking up from this?  How are you able to see yourself sleeping when you’re already awake?

 

The solider puts his hands up in a non-threatening gesture, “You’re not dead, I promise.  And I’m Andy.” 

 

You just stare at him.

 

“Please just try and relax despite the circumstances and let me explain.  You aren’t dead, just think of this like a dream…sort of.   I know Frank; we were deployed together on our first tour in Iraq.  I was killed by an insurgent, Frank has always blamed himself because he was our squad leader, but it wasn’t his fault.  I’m proof of the risk soldiers take every minute by fighting over there, shit happens, I just happened to have got caught in that shit.” 

 

“…I’m sorry.”  You don’t know what else to say.

 

The soldier gives you a small nod of gratitude and continues his story, “Ever since my death, Frank looked out for my family.  I left behind a pregnant wife and small son.  He would call her to check on them, but every Christmas he would buy them a real tree, just like I had done.  He would buy my sons gifts and make sure their Christmas never faltered without me.  I never knew how I could pay him back until now.  Until you.”

 

You aren’t surprised one bit by what Frank has done for Andy’s family.  No one knew Frank Castle, they only knew The Punisher.

 

“Me?”

 

Andy nods, “He never needed anything before you.  He had his own family and his own happy life.  But then I saw what happened to his family in the park that day. I don’t blame him for how he is now; if that was my family and I was still around, I can’t say I wouldn’t be the same way.   I knew then how I could repay him but I could only do so by talking to someone who cared.  You care more about Frank Castle, than he cares about himself.  You’re who I need to talk to.” 

 

You look back at the bed.  There you are snuggled into his arms, both of you deep asleep.  Your head resting on his bicep, while his other hand is resting on your jaw – he had been cradling your face when he fell asleep. 

 

“Can I show you something?”  Andy asks from behind you.  You don’t take your eyes off Frank when you nod. 

 

__

In the blink of an eye, you and Andy are standing in the corner of Frank’s living room.  Before you can even ask the question, Andy answers, “They can’t see or hear us.  As far as they’re concerned, no one is here but them.” 

 

The Christmas tree is lit up with numerous ornaments adorning it.  The ornaments range from those obviously made by the children, to ones they bought on vacations, and some Marine ones due from Frank’s service.  Lisa and Frank Jr. are playing in front of it. 

 

“Frankie, no!  I’m taller so I’m the T-Rex!  You have to play the raptor and then I eat you.”  Lisa pulls her arms in so they appear smaller and she walks towards Frank Jr. who, despite wearing a blanket as a cape, complies with his sister and makes a growl acting like a raptor. 

 

Maria is heading towards the kids from the kitchen.  She’s even more beautiful than the pictures you had seen and you smile.  She’s holding a tray with four steaming mugs, three with whipped cream.  You instantly now know that Frank is somewhere in the house and the one mug without the whipped cream is his, it’s coffee.  He doesn’t care for hot chocolate, but he does enjoy whipped cream.  You can already see him swiping his finger at Maria’s whipped cream to steal some, just like he has done to you. 

 

Before she crosses the threshold of the living room, Frank comes out from around a corner and wraps his arms around her waist from behind, a big cheeky smile on his face.  Your breath catches in your throat and tears spring to your eyes.  This was Frank Castle, the family man.  You had only dreamed of what he was like and here it was playing out in front of you.  Thank god they couldn’t hear you because your crying seems so loud to your own ears. 

 

“What are you doing?” Maria laughs as she turns her head to the side to glance at Frank. 

 

“Baby, rules are rules.”  He points above them and they both look up at the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.  She throws her head back with a laugh before looking at him, “You know I like to break the rules though,” she teases. 

 

He laughs, a real true laugh and your heart hurts at how happy he is. 

 

“I’m not letting you break this one,” He pulls her a little closer, careful of the tray she’s holding, and they share the sweetest kiss you’ve ever seen.  You’ve read the case report and you can’t help but cry harder as you imagine these sweet, happy faces lying dead in Central Park.

 

Andy gently puts his hand on your shoulder and gives it a little squeeze, “I know.” 

 

“Eww!”  Frank, Jr. yells when he spots his parents.  Frank and Maria pull apart, she continues with the tray to the coffee table as Frank looks at his son, who is his spitting image, “Eww?  Get over here!”  He teases and scoops up a giggling Frank, Jr. holding him upside down as he walks over to the couch.  He laughs and sits Frank, Jr. on the couch to have his hot chocolate.  Lisa sits between Frank and Maria, leaning into her father as she sips her cup.  And as you predicted, Frank swipes his finger into Maria’s whipped cream and sticks his finger into his mouth as Maria gives him a playful glare.

 

You turn to Andy, “When was this?” 

 

“Their last Christmas together.” 

You wipe the tears from your face, “Why did you want me to see this?” 

 

“So you had something to picture when I ask you to help me payback Frank.” 

 

You’re still confused and look at him.  Once again, in the blink of an eye, you’re back in your apartment with Andy.

 

“I want to give Frank his family back.” 

 

“What?  But…how?” 

 

“The powers that be,” is his only answer to how, “The only thing is, if I do that, that means you and Frank never happened.”

 

More tears start and you look over at Frank again.  You two had been through a hell of a lot and he just told you he loved you.  And my god, do you love him back.  Punisher or not, he is without a doubt the sweetest, gentlest, kindest man you have ever known. 

 

Andy adds, “I know you love him, that’s why it’s only right that I ask you first. But that also means you will make the best choice for him.” 

 

You can’t look away from his handsome face.

 

“How would it work?  Would it go back to that Christmas?  Would they still be killed?” 

 

“No. It would start from today.  They would have never gone to the park that day, life would have continued on as normal.”

 

They really were the perfect family.  And Frank has never looked as happy as he did in that moment.  But you love him with all of your heart, you want him to be here with you.

 

“Would I remember him?”  You glance at Andy, who nods in response.

 

So you get to remember what could have been while Frank goes on with the life he was meant to have. You start sobbing as you know the choice you need to make.

 

“Okay,” you look at Andy, “He deserves to have his family again. He deserves to be happy.”

 

Andy gives you a sad smile because he knows what this means for you, “Thank you.”

 

You keep wiping the steady stream of tears from your cheeks, “What do I need to do?”

 

“I take it from here.  Just lay back down and when you wake up again, it will be done.” 

 

You start to walk to the bed when you stop and turn back to Andy, “Thank you…for doing this for him.”

 

He gives you a nod.

 

Walking to the bed, you feel so weird as you lay back down, into your own body.  Once your head hits the pillow, you can feel that you’re you again.  You glance over towards the door and Andy isn’t there anymore.  You look at Frank and your heart breaks. 

 

This will be the last time you ever see him, touch him, feel him.  At least you’ll have this memory and all the others to hold onto. 

 

You reach up and touch his face gently, you can’t wake him up because it will make it so much harder for you to say goodbye.  You so very lightly kiss his lips and whisper, “I love you, Frank.  I always will.”

 

__

 

The second you wake up, you feel cold.  Everything from the night before floods into your memory in an instant.

 

Frank isn’t next to you and you can tell no one ever was.  The pillow isn’t indented and the sheets are all tucked around you.  You throw them back and right away notice his boots aren’t sitting against the wall in their usual spot.  You rip open his drawer in your dresser – there’s your sweaters neatly folded.  A check of your closet shows only your blouses and a couple jackets; there’s no Kevlar vest with a skull spray painted on it, no long black leather jacket. 

 

You knew you had to expect this but it hurts far worse than you imagined.  You go into the kitchen area and open a cabinet.  There’s one half empty bag of coffee, not the supply you normally kept when Frank was there.  And when you look down, it’s not Frank’s henley you’re wearing, it’s just one of your white v-neck t-shirts. 

 

And then it really, truly hits you.  He’s gone. 

 

You slowly kneel to the floor and cover your face with your hands.  Your sobs fill the apartment.  You never felt more alone. 

 

__

 

It’s a horrible idea and part of you realizes that.  It’s been about a week since your life was forever changed and you just had to know if it truly worked on Frank’s end. 

 

That’s how you find yourself walking in his neighborhood.  Just as you round the corner onto his street, you hear shouting and look to see a German Shepherd puppy running towards you with a camouflage leash trailing behind it.  As you bend down to grab the little fella, you hear Frank’s unmistakable voice.

 

“Rex!  Get back here buddy!” 

 

You stand up, holding the cute puppy who’s now licking your face, and see Frank Castle slowing down to a jog as he gets close to you.  Right behind him is Lisa. 

 

“I can’t thank you enough!”  Frank says with a smile as you hand him back Rex. You already know Lisa named him.

 

Your fingers brush his and a shiver goes through your body. 

 

“Thank you!” Lisa says to you too. 

 

You have to hold back your tears as you smile, “You’re so welcome. I’m just glad I was here to help.” 

 

“So are we.” Frank says before gently placing the dog on the ground.  He takes the leash handle and slips over Lisa’s wrist before wrapping it a couple extra times around it, “Alright sweetie, take him back home before your mother kills me for getting him.”  Lisa nods enthusiastically, “Let’s go Rex!” and she walks back down the street.

 

Frank stands back up and looks at you, “Got him for her and my son for Christmas.  Typical dog name, right? She picked it, she loves dinosaurs,” He looks back at Lisa and chuckles.

 

Your heart is pounding.

 

“She’s very sweet and the puppy is adorable.  You’re a good dad.” 

 

He smirks with a chuckle, “Don’t know if my wife feels that way right now.”

 

“I’m sure she’ll come back around.  Puppies make everyone happy.”

 

“They do, don’t they?”  He never loses that grin on his face.  He is truly so happy.  “Well listen, thank you again for helping us out.  You have a Merry Christmas!”  He gives you a quick nod before turning and walking back towards his house.

 

You watch him go and quietly respond, “Merry Christmas, Frank.”


	36. Lazy Mornings

Red would probably never believe it, but Frank loves lazy mornings, really only because of you. 

 

He loves when you’re not rushing to go to work and he can just keep holding you in bed. He loves the randomness of your conversations, the constant kisses, constant touches. It’s a feeling that's familiar from a past life, but yet not a memory. It’s just a nice pause on his war infected life.

 

He’s awake, on his stomach with his arms partially under the pillow, but keeps his eyes closed. You slide in under his arm, the crook of his elbow on your earlobe. 

 

“Your biceps are pretty big.” 

 

You run your fingers over his flexed bicep muscle; it’s as hard as a brick and the same size as one you honestly think.

 

“Well, I  _ do _ workout so they better be.” The corner of his mouth quirks up.

 

“Are your arms heavy?” 

 

You watch his eyebrows as confusion washes over for a second, but that smirk stays put.

 

He blindly moves his arm from your face to your waist, “...what?”

 

“I don’t know, like, do your muscles make you feel like you’ve got two tree branches as arms or something?” 

 

He opens his eyes when he hears you burst out with laughter. Yours causing him to laugh too, but he still answers; he always answers.

 

“I don’t know, they’re my arms. I’m just...used to them?” he says between chuckling.

 

As your laughter dies down slowly, “I just realized how ridiculous that sounded after I asked it out loud.” 

 

He loves you.

 

“C’mere.” He pulls you even closer and shifts his face on the pillow so he’s slightly looking down at you. You gently grab his chin between your thumb and index finger, and kiss him.

 

He rubs your back as you pull away and kiss his bearded chin. He slowly turns onto his back as you continue placing kisses along his jaw and neck, and move to straddle his hips. 

 

His hands rest on your thighs and his smile reaches his eyes as you lean over his face, your hair a curtain around him. He moves his hand under your hair and sweeps it all to one side.  His last memory in this world could be his hand in your hair and he’d die with a smile on his face. 

 

You lean down and lightly kiss his cupid’s bow, which he in turn uses when he kisses your nose. You smile softly and caress his cheek with the back of your hand. 

 

You gently run your fingertips over the bruise on the side of his forehead before placing a small kiss there. You place one on his eyebrow where he has a cut healing. One on his cheekbone where he has two steristrips holding it together. 

 

He closes his eyes as he feels your lips move over every visible injury on his face. As a kid you’re led to believe that a kiss makes any bruise or cut instantly better, you find out pretty soon what bullshit that is, but right now he could swear any pain he feels disappears once your lips touch each one. 

 

You whisper his name to get him to open his eyes. He cups your jaw and runs his thumb over your lips. 

 

And there’s that bright smile of yours.

 

The smile that literally makes his chest ache because he loves it so much. The smile so infectious that he can’t help but mirror it. The smile that makes him feel like his old self; like he’s not a man who kills every night. 

 

That smile is on your face as you lean down and kiss him. His hands are sliding up to your shoulder blades to keep you close. 

 

You pull away just enough to look at him and kiss the corner of his eye where it crinkles when he smiles. 

 

You sit back up and let yourself slide off of him, plopping next to him, on your back. 

 

“Where you goin’?” Frank rolls onto his side, his arm moving to gently cradle your head as he leans in, peppering the side of your face with kisses. You bring your hands up to grip his bicep and forearm, your chin nestled in the crook of his elbow, his hand in the side of your hair. 

 

His breathy chuckles hit your skin as he laughs at your giggling.  He stops the kissing to bury his face in the side of your head. 

 

You smile to yourself and reach up putting a hand to his cheek. You feel his head move, followed by his lips brushing against your palm. His lips then connect with your temple. 

 

You start wiggling your body towards him and you feel him grin.  He partially lifts his one side as you snuggle your way halfway underneath him; you love when he’s like your own personal man blanket. 

 

His leg rests between yours, one of your feet hooking around his ankle.  His arm moves a little lower so it rests on your chest, his hand caressing your face. You both share the pillow; his other arm is curved above your heads. 

 

You look at him and he kisses your cheek, lips lingering. He hovers over to your lips. He places a kiss on your top lip, then on your bottom one. 

 

You blush, you always blush when Frank touches you. 

 

The back of his finger trails down the column of your throat as he kisses you. 

 

When his hand reaches the bottom of your neck, you tenderly grab his wrist as he deepens the kiss. 

 

You slide your palm against his and he immediately laces his fingers with yours. 

 

When he pulls away, he brings your joined hands to his mouth and kisses the back of your hand. 

 

You nuzzle his neck and start kissing his skin. His hand breaks away from yours to mold to the back of your neck, gently kneading as you work your way up and along his jaw. 

 

You lay your head back down, facing him. 

 

“You’re incredible.” He says so softly, almost as if he doesn’t mean to say it out loud. 

 

Your cheeks heat up at his words and you glance away.  He rests his forehead against yours, his mouth near the corner of your own. 

 

“Absolutely incredible.” He whispers. 

 

He kisses where his mouth lays then pulls back, drawing you to look at him. 

 

“Frank.” You say slightly incredulously as you watch your hands play with the beaded chain of his dog tags.  He tilts your face up, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before looking at you. 

  
“You’re the only person I give a shit about. Whatever kind of life this is that I have right now, all I know is that you make it better. You make it so much better.” 


	37. Exhausted

Frank leans his head back on the top of the couch as your lips move along the warm skin of his neck. His eyes close as the pleasure slowly floods throughout his body. You feel his hands moving along your skin, under your shirt, then down your hips to your thighs. 

 

But Frank is so tired. He just came back from one hell of a night and as soon as he sat down, you sat on his lap. In no way was he upset, especially when you’re doing this, he’s the one who feels like an asshole for letting his energy dissipate. 

 

You notice his hands move slower than usual, but it doesn’t make you think anything is off.  When you move your lips to his jaw and make your way to his lips is when you notice. 

 

All he can think about is that last night with Maria and how fucking exhausted he felt to the point of not making love to her after being gone as long as he was. Had he just known that it would be the last night with her, he would have found the strength and energy to make her see stars. 

 

He doesn’t want to put another woman he loves through that disappointment that he saw on Maria’s face that night. He tries so hard to find the energy to get more into this with you, but he just fucking can’t.

 

His kiss is different. That’s what makes you pull away to look at him. Your hands slide across his stubble, “Hey, is something wrong?” 

 

Frank’s chest aches at how sweet you sound when you ask, like you think  _ you _ did something. He shakes his head in your grasp, “Never, not with you. Not with this,” and he squeezes your hips to drive the point home. 

 

As he says that, you see him blink slower than usual and it hits you, he’s just tired. A small smile appears on your face, “Frank, if you’re tired, it’s okay,” you press a quick kiss to his lips, “We don’t have to do anything.” 

 

“I don’t want to disappoint you.” 

 

What is this man thinking? 

 

“Disappoint me? Don’t be ridiculous.” You brush your thumbs across his cheekbones. 

 

“I want to. Believe me, I want to,” and he slides his hands up your sides, thumbs brushing along the sides of your breasts as he looks at your body with lust before meeting your stare again. 

 

Amused that he thinks he needs to convince you of that, you lean in kissing him sweetly, “I know.” 

 

He doesn’t understand how he got so lucky in love not once, but twice in his life. 

 

Frank stands up, holding your legs around his hips and makes his way to the bed with you. He kneels onto the mattress and holds you against him as he lays you down first. He then gently lays on top of you, head nestled on your chest, eyes closed. He slides one arm under your back and his other hand rests on your hip.  

 

You repeatedly run your fingers slowly through his hair and rub his forearm soothingly.  Frank falls asleep quickly and you smile at how cute he looks like this. 

 

In the night, he wakes first. You’re asleep with your hand in his hair. He slowly moves it off and crawls up so he’s right next to you. As soon as he puts his arm around you, you naturally move into his chest and snuggle close. Smiling, he presses a kiss to your hair before falling back to sleep. 

 

In the morning, you let him sleep. Walking into the kitchen you start the coffee for him and read a magazine at the table. When you finish and stand up, Frank has just sat up on the side of the bed. He stands up and walks over to you as you toss the magazine in the basket. 

 

“Feeling better?” You ask as his arms wrap around your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

 

“Yeah,” and he quickly scoops you up getting a giggle out of you, “And now it’s time I make up for last night.” 

 

His lips are on yours as he heads back to bed with you. 


	38. For Another Day

You’re both bleeding and breathing heavy. 

 

You’re against the brick wall in the alley having just watched Frank beat to death a man who had mugged you and then tried to take it a step further. 

 

Frank happened to have been close enough to make out a woman’s scream. A few minutes later when he came barreling into the alley, he saw it was you that was in trouble. 

 

You caught a glimpse of Frank’s expression before he ripped the man away from you and you almost didn’t recognize him. You’ve seen him pissed off before, but this was a whole other level. 

You turned your head from the brutal scene as you heard the sound of flesh on flesh of repeated punching. Bones crunching, painful moans from the mugger, mumbles from Frank as he treated this guy like a punching bag. 

 

When the sounds finally stop, you look. Frank’s standing up, now a foot back from the fallen man, and pulls out a gun. As he starts raising it to aim at him, you move and stand right in front of him. 

 

You don’t hesitate as you put your hands on him. One on his chest, one on his cheek. 

 

You know you’re crying, but you’re trying to seem strong.

 

“That’s enough, Frank.” you say shakily. 

 

His eyes stay past you as he drills a hole with his stare into the man on the ground. 

 

“Please…” 

 

His chest heaves under your hand and he’s actually snarling a little. The blood that runs down his face from his earlier encounters is running onto your hands but you don’t care. 

 

He still won’t look away from the piece of shit. 

 

“He’s gotta pay. He needs to pay.” His deep voice sounds so hurt and angry, it sends chills down your spine. 

 

“He’s already dead. It’s finished.” Your head hurts from where the man shoved you into the wall and your wrist is throbbing from where he twisted it. You can still feel his hands on your thighs as he touched you under your dress. 

 

You grab his chin and turn his face, forcing him to look at you. 

 

“Just take me home…” more tears start rolling down your cheeks as you almost plead with him, “...please, just take me home.” 

 

Frank’s eyes, as dark as they are, express so much. You actually watch the moment his trance of anger leaves and is replaced with a softness he only has for you. 

 

In half a second, his gun is holstered and his hands are on your face as he looks over your head wound. 

 

“...did he touch you?” it comes out a hard, angry whisper and you know what he’s truly asking. 

 

You nod, a fresh set of tears starting to fall, “My legs,” and you watch as his expression slowly falls as he thinks he was too late. But you let him know,  “You showed up before he could do anything else to me.”

 

He looks relieved but still angry.  He caresses your cheek with his thumb.

 

His lips have several cuts on them and blood is in the cracks of his slightly chapped lips, but you still happily accept his kiss to your forehead. You feel as he wipes his blood from your skin right after he pulls away.

 

You throw your arms around his neck, his arm crosses over your back, hugging you. You feel him lean down, his other arm wrapping around the back of your legs.  He picks you up and carries you home. 

 

He only puts you down when he steps inside your apartment. You don’t let go of his neck though, still hugging him, face pressed into his neck. You can feel his pulse against your cheek. 

 

He doesn’t speak, just wraps his arms around you tight, hugging you close. 

 

He rubs your back and tenderly smooths his hand over the back of your head. 

 

He’s covered in blood and you just had a pair of grimy hands on you, “You wanna shower with me?” he asks quietly. 

 

He feels you nod against him before letting him go and stepping back. Frank takes off his jacket, then his Kevlar. You slip your shoes off and he takes your hand, leading you into the bathroom. 

 

Frank reaches into the shower and turns the water on, warm. You pull your dress up over your head and drop it on the floor. He lifts his hand and touches the welt where your head hit the brick, a small amount of blood left on his fingertips. He wishes he shot the guy.  

 

He pulls his shirt off as you rid yourself of your bra and underwear. You step into the shower first as he continues undressing. 

 

You run your hands over your face as the water washes over you.  Frank steps in shortly after. You help him wash the blood from his wounds and when you see his clean face, you grasp his face gently pulling it to yours. He wraps his arms around you and lets you rest your forehead against his, your eyes closed. 

 

He kisses your nose and you look at him. He still sees the teariness to your eyes and his heart hurts. 

 

He slowly unwraps his arms from your waist and places his hands right above your knees, “Here?”

 

You know what he’s doing and you wonder how you got so lucky to have him love you. 

 

You shake your head and move his hands to your mid thighs; that’s where that asshole touched you. 

An inhale through his nose before he pulls his face away so he can look at you. 

 

His hands slowly caress your thighs; it’s not sexual, it’s a tender moment. He’s doing it so you don’t feel that man’s touch there anymore...you only feel his own, the man you love. 

 

You slide your hands over his shoulders and kiss him. The movements of his hands eventually still and instead slide up to your hips. 

 

You place your hands on his and lift them up; his knuckles are busted open, the water having washed the blood away. You kiss right below his knuckles on each hand. Just as you start to pull your face away from them, he takes his hands out of your grasp and slide them onto either side of your face. He sweeps his thumbs across your cheeks before tilting your face up and kissing you. 

“I’m sor…” he starts but you don’t want him doing that to himself.

 

You cut him off, “Frank,” and you shake your head a little, “This wasn’t because of you. Don’t even think that. You got there, you saved me, and now you’re taking care of me...and that means everything to me.” 

 

His hands don’t leave your face as he gently rests his forehead against yours, “You mean everything to me.” 

 

You close your eyes and smile; he moves his face up and kisses your forehead. 

 

\--

 

After the shower and after you’re both dressed, you’re sitting on Frank’s lap at the kitchen table. 

 

He has one hand placed on the table in front of you as you clean and bandage his knuckles. His other hand is under your shirt, caressing your skin. 

 

He places kisses to the back of your neck as you work on him.  Once you finish one hand, he moves the other hand to the table and the bandaged one to your skin. 

 

Once you finish with that one, he stands up with you in his arms, walking over to the couch. He lays down, with you on his chest and reaches up pulling the blanket off the back of the couch, pulling it over you both. 

 

Your legs rest between his, your chest pressed into his. You rest your face against his neck, the bridge of your nose against his warm skin. His hand slides under your shirt and runs up and down your back soothingly. His jaw is caressed slowly by your fingers as you close your eyes.  

 

His steady breathing is comforting; his other hand stays on your arm that’s across his chest. 

 

No words are spoken and no words need to be. 

 

He has you safe in his arms. He feels your breath tickle his skin and feels your heart beat in time with his.  You may have a small cut on your head, but you’re alive.

 

He gets to love you for another day. He focuses on that. 

 

Your fingers stop moving along his jaw, instead resting against his neck, and he knows you’re asleep. 

 

Slowly he shifts so he has you sandwiched between the couch and himself. Your head nestles perfectly into the crook of his arm and he gets to look at your beautiful face. 

 

He sweetly brushes the hair from your face, pressing a kiss to the corner of your eye. He doesn’t pull away, instead whispering sentiments of love against your skin. 

 

One more kiss to your cheek and he lays his head down; his lips resting against your forehead, your nose brushing his adam’s apple. 

 

_ He gets to love you for another day. _


	39. Distraction

“There’s at least 15 coming, armed.  About three vehicles,”  Matt informs you both.  

 

You called Karen in a panic when you had a feeling that Frank was in trouble. She called Matt for you and he went to look for him at where Frank said he was going that night. Matt did not expect to see you there waiting for him.  He quickly tried to convince you to leave but he heard the subtle change of your heartbeat when you mentioned Frank again and he knew there was no way you were leaving. 

 

Frank’s injured, bleeding heavily from a multitude of stab wounds.  His mouth is dripping with blood as he tries to talk more than he should be.  

 

“Get her out of here, Red.” He rasps before coughing a little. 

 

Matt looks towards you, “He’s dead weight. I can’t fight these guys off and move him at the same time, but he can’t stay here. He’s lost too much blood.” 

 

You look between the two men in front of you, biting your lip slightly. Frank eyes you. You quickly reach for the gun in his now limp hand. With the speed of a ninja, he grabs your arm as your hand wraps around the grip of the gun. Despite the speed, his actual grasp on you couldn’t be more gentle. 

 

“Don’t,” he warns low. 

 

You share a look and you see the deep scowl on his face as he stares at you, hand still holding your arm. You then watch as his eyebrows tilt up slightly in a look of what you can only describe as close to desperate despair. 

 

“...don’t,” this time it’s a soft plea. 

 

Matt knows you’re touching the gun and he hears the pleading tone of Frank’s voice, one he never would have imagined he’d ever hear. 

 

You give a small frown, “It’s your only chance.”  You aren’t even surprised that he could read your mind; as corny as it sounds you two are as best of friends as a civilian and vigilante could be. 

 

You lean in and kiss a blood-free patch of skin on his forehead. His bloody hand releases your arm and slides into your hair, keeping you close. The fact that he’s getting blood on your hair doesn’t even register to either of you. 

 

“If something happens to you…,” he takes a short, deep breath; you hear the quiet gurgle of blood and you know you need to get going so Matt can get him out. 

 

“...then what’s the point of me coming back from this?” He glances down at his bloody, wounded body before meeting your stare again. 

 

It’s the first time he’s admitted to having strong feelings for you, strong enough that he’d rather die than live in a world where you don’t. And of course Frank would choose when he’s at death’s door to do so; it’s just so typical Frank Castle. 

 

You swear his eyes look watery but then again you’re looking through your own watery eyes so you can’t be certain. You cup his jaw and brush your thumb over the corner of his bloody mouth, “Hey, you’d do the same for me, right?” 

 

You don’t give him time to answer because time is running out. You grab the gun, squeeze Matt’s shoulder in thanks, and run out of the room.  

 

“So help me, you better go after her right this goddamn second!” He growls loud enough to make himself start coughing. 

 

Matt throws Frank’s better arm around his shoulder and hoists him up, “She’d kill me if I didn’t get you out of here.” He struggles with getting Frank across the room. 

 

“ _ I’ll _ kill ya if she don’t make it back,” Frank warns him. 

 

\--

 

You had no actual plan to your idea. You ran towards an exit, one near the entrance and slipped outside into the cold night. You saw the three vehicles Matt mentioned pull up and sure enough, a total of fifteen men poured out in total.  

 

Your breathing was fast, chest heaving, solely from adrenaline.  You stayed in the shadows of the building. When they started heading inside, you fired multiple rounds at them, striking at least two of them, and took off running.  

 

‘Stupid Plan! Such a stupid plan!’ you kept telling yourself as you ran. You heard them behind you, their footfalls echoing off the surrounding buildings and the empty streets, making it sound like a stampede was behind you.  You were constantly ducking as bullets whizzed past you. 

 

As you rounded a corner you felt instant heat and pain explode in your shoulder.  You got hit. The pain was intense, but you knew you had to keep moving.  Gripping your shoulder, you gritted your teeth and kept running.  

 

You heard the squeal of tires and you just knew it was one of theirs. You booked it for the closest alley.  You saw a few doors and tried them all until you were able to open one. 

 

But you didn’t run inside. You let the door go and hid between a dumpster and a pile of boxes. You pulled your knees to your chest, tucked your head in, and hoped that this new idea worked. 

 

You hold your breath as you hear them come down the same alley. 

 

You hear one say how that door just shut and how she was in there. They all ran inside the building as you had hoped. You take a quick peek, see no one is around and then continue running. 

 

\--

 

Claire came quickly after Matt called. 

 

His apartment was the closest, so he took Frank there.  Despite his condition, Frank was a real pain in the ass. 

 

Claire had to sedate him because he kept trying to get up to go looking for you. Matt left after that. 

 

\--

 

You’re hiding in another alley, only a few blocks away. The pain in your shoulder was becoming too much as your adrenaline was dying down and exhaustion set in.  Your legs were burning from running and your chest ached from inhaling the chilly air in gasps.  

 

As you hear your name, you look up to see Daredevil in front of you. 

 

“Tell me he’s okay,” are the first words out of your mouth. 

 

“He’s okay. Now let’s go, he’ll kill me if I don’t bring you back,” a small smirk on his face. 

 

\--

 

Frank woke from his short sedation and immediately brushed off Claire. He sat up as fast as he could and got up, walking to the chair where his shirt was.  

 

“Hey! You need to rest! You’re lucky you aren’t dead right now.” 

 

As he pulls his shirt on, over his new bandages, “She’s out there alone! Fucking bunch of assholes after her. I sure as hell ain’t stickin’ around here.” 

 

As Claire follows him out of the bedroom, trying to convince him that Matt has a handle on it, the door to the roof opens. 

 

Both shut up immediately and look up. You walk in first, gripping your shoulder, Matt following you with his mask in his hand. 

 

Frank limps his way to the bottom of the stairs.  When you look down at him, you feel such relief flood throughout your body. 

 

When you make it to him, he cups your cheek and looks at your shoulder, “Shit, let me…” 

 

But Claire interrupts, “Let  _ me _ look at it.” She knows he means well but she’s the actual nurse here. 

 

As she approaches you, Frank must have been eyeing her because she raises her eyebrow at him with an annoyed expression, “Seriously? I just helped you and I’m gonna do the same for her. Relax.” 

 

You follow Claire into Matt’s bedroom where she slides the door closed behind you both. You take off your shirt, with her assistance, and let her clean and stitch the wound. 

 

Once she was done, she helped you put your shirt back on, then walked out of the room. You heard her tell Frank “she’s all yours now.” 

 

You stand up when Frank walks in, he slides the door closed. 

 

When he turns back to you, you see relief on his face. Without a word, you both immediately embrace one another. He rubs your back as you hug him close.

 

When you both pull back a little to look at each other, he places a hand on your cheek. 

 

“You got shot because of me.” 

 

With your hands on his sides, you shake your head, “No, I got shot because of  _ me. _ And as much as it hurts, I’d do it again if it means you’re still here.” 

 

He starts slowly leaning in while he talks, “I would have burned down the whole city to make sure you made it back to me.” 

 

A small smile appears on your face and you gently grip his sides, “I know.” 

 

And you do. Frank is fiercely loyal to those he cares about. And for those he loves? You can only imagine. 

 

As his nose brushes yours and his thumb runs under your bottom lip, he whispers, “Do you also know that you’ve got me hooked? I’m wrapped around your goddamn finger.” His lips are just barely touching yours, you feel as they move into a smirk. 

 

You smile against them, “I had a feeling,” you tease. 

 

You feel his breath as a quiet chuckle leaves him before his lips are finally on yours.  

 


	40. Sixth Sense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW at the very end

Call it a sixth sense or attribute it to the heavy stench of cheap cologne that's clouded outside your door, but he knows something isn’t right even before he knocks.

 

His concerns are justified when the door is opened only an inch and the face of an unknown male fills the space. 

 

“Get lost. She not home.” Broken english with a Russian accent.

 

Mafia.

 

By the greeting, this shithead doesn’t seem to realize he’s talking to the same man they’re looking for. 

 

And the same man that will also end his life. 

 

Frank sneaks the tip of his boot into the space of the open door. When the man goes to shut it in his face, it doesn’t budge. 

 

The man looks down at the cause and when he looks back up, he’s staring down the barrel of a .45 caliber.  

 

Before the bullet even fully lodges into the man’s brain, Frank slams the door open, quickly assessing the situation in milliseconds. 

 

Three men.

 

One by the window, two in the bathroom.

 

He manages to take out two of them with headshots. The last one gets close to blowing Frank’s brains out but Frank brings his arm up just in time to push his attacker’s arm half an inch over sending the bullet through the wall instead. 

 

Frank’s forehead slams into the man’s nose, stunning him. He throws a right hook into his cheekbone and sees a tooth go flying. As the man falls back, Frank kneels, placing a knee on his chest, and sticks the gun barrel under the man’s chin.

 

The blood and brain matter splatters across Frank’s face. He wipes a hand down his face to rid his skin somewhat clean as he rushes into the only place he can’t see, the bathroom.

 

Your wrists, mouth, and ankles are duct taped. Blood trails down the side of your face, your cheek is bruised, and you have at least two slash marks on your arms.  He figures out they got the drop on you while you were sleeping because you’re still wearing his t-shirt and a pair of panties.

 

You’re unconscious in the empty bathtub as Frank gets in across from you, kneeling down. His eyes look over your body and he spots the few bruises on your legs and he notices some blood seeping out from behind the tape on your mouth. 

 

He then notices the blood under your fingernails and instantly he connects them to the four scratches down the left cheek of one of the goons. 

 

Just as his fingertips brush your cheek, your eyes open wide and you go to hit whoever it is. 

 

As Frank grabs your wrist just before your fists connect with his cheek, he realizes you were faking being knocked out. It was a survival play to get close enough to fight back some more.  He feels a mixture of pride and sadness. 

 

He watches as the fear leaves your eyes when you recognize him. And you move your hands to his chin, fingers smoothing over his stubble so gently.  He starts rushing to untape your ankles, but he feels your hands on his and he looks at you.  

 

You reach up and painfully pull the tape from your cut lips, tears spilling from your eyes.  He reaches up to wipe them away, cradling your face between his hands. 

 

“You need to go!” 

 

“You kiddin’ me? I ain’t leaving you like this! I gotta get you outta here before more of ‘em come.” 

 

Your hands, still taped at the wrists, grasps the front of his shirt and it’s taking everything in him not to just ignore you and carry you out. 

 

“Someone probably called the cops already from the gunshots. They can’t find you here! I’ll make something up to throw them off. But you can’t go back to prison, I can’t let that happen.” 

 

“You’re asking a lot from me right now.” Frank says it low and pained.  And you know you are. You’re asking him to leave his beaten and bleeding girlfriend behind which probably is only drudging up the memory of being unable to help his family that day in Central Park. 

 

“I know,” you admit. 

 

He gets you to compromise. He sticks around until the sirens are right outside the building. Once the frantic footfalls of the police rushing up the stairs can be heard, he grasps your face and kisses your forehead, before leaving through the window. 

 

He’s in the alley across the street watching you get taken away in an ambulance. He makes note of the hospital name on the side of the vehicle and he doesn’t leave until it’s driving away. 

 

\--

 

You’re exhausted. 

 

You just got released from the hospital after spending hours there being fussed over and questioned by the police. You gave them a story of how those men kept calling you “Lucy” so you said they probably had the wrong person. You couldn’t see who shot them and you have no idea who it could have been. The police seemed to have bought it. 

 

The hospital gave you a pair of scrub pants, but you still had no shoes, no jacket, and no where to go. The police asked you to call a friend to come get you, when Karen showed up.  She claimed a neighbor of yours informed her what happened, but you know it was Frank.  

 

She brought a pair of her sneakers for you and a grey hoodie that you instantly recognized. 

 

“He asked me to bring it. Said it’s your favorite.” Karen whispers to you, with a smile. 

 

You put on your favorite hoodie of Frank’s and pull it tight around you. You thank her for coming and bringing you the clothes. 

 

As you two are walking towards her car in the parking garage, you see a dark figure leaning against the side of it.  And you’d know that silhouette anywhere. 

 

Frank stands up straight when he sees you approaching.  As you walk the short distance to him, you stand in front of him. 

 

His hands are on your face and his eyes are trailing over your injuries again. 

 

“Hey, I’m okay,” you say quietly to him. 

 

He looks at you and his thumb just skims over the cut on your lip. He kisses you very gently because of it. 

 

You hug him tight and he breathes you in before looking at Karen over your shoulder. 

 

“I owe you one, Page. Thank you.” 

 

\--

 

Frank directs Karen to his safehouse apartment in Brooklyn. He thanks her again for her help and waits until she drives off to take you inside. 

 

You had never been here before but you knew he had some place he kept all his weaponry. Boxes of guns and ammo lined the walls and surrounded a desk where you saw homemade grenades lined on top. There was a sheet covered, queen mattress laying on top of piled up wooden pallets, against the only wall without boxes. 

 

“Figured you could stay here until your place is freed up.” His hand is wrapped around yours. 

 

“Thank you,” you get out before yawning. He squeezes your hand and kisses your temple. 

 

“You mind if I shower?” 

 

“Not at all. Bathroom’s through that door.” 

 

You rub his hand with your thumb, “Take one with me?” 

 

Frank responds by leaning down and scooping you up into his arms. He enters the bathroom and puts you down gently. He helps you undress since you’re sore. Once you’re naked, he undresses himself; you start the water and step inside the shower. 

 

When Frank steps in behind you, he sweeps your hair from the front of your shoulders to behind them. Then he collects it all in his hands and slides them down the low ponytail he formed. 

 

He slides his arms against your waist as he wraps his arms around you. You lean back against him and he tilts his head to kiss the side of your neck. 

 

You squeeze his forearms against your waist before turning around in his embrace. You see his eyes going to your injuries again and you grasp his biceps. 

 

“Frank, please stop blaming yourself.” 

 

He shouldn’t be surprised that you know him so well. He brings his hand up to brush across the bruise on your cheek. Then across the two steristrips on the gash by your hairline. 

 

“You wouldn’t have all these if it weren’t for me. I let myself get too close to you. You’re not safe anymore.” 

 

“Tell me you aren’t going to try to push me away again. That you won’t tell me to stay away and have you disappear on me.” Your hands are slowly running up and down his muscled biceps. 

 

He rests his forehead gently against yours, “I want to, because you’ll be safer if you do...but I can’t. I can’t say that all again,” he lifts his face to plant a quick kiss against the side of your nose before resting his forehead against yours again, “I love you too much to let you go...and what I wouldn’t give to have those bruises and cuts on me instead of you.” 

 

You skate your hands across his broad shoulders and up his neck until you’re cradling his face. You tenderly pull his chin forward until your lips meet. 

 

His lips part your own as they move softly against yours. His hands slowly slide down your back. They follow the curve of your butt as they move lower, finding their final resting spot underneath each cheek, massaging the back of your thighs. 

 

The kiss is so soft. It sends an initial buzz of electricity through your nerves.  You want to crawl into him somehow, you just love him so much, love his touch so much. 

 

You feel the intensity of the kiss slowly grow as his hands moved lower and you feel a slight twinge of pain from your healing lips, but it never even crosses your mind to pull away. 

 

Your thumbs sweep across his lower cheeks intermittently. His hands move between cupping your buttocks and gripping your thighs. 

 

He gently slips his tongue in and you move your arms to around his neck so you can be right up against him. Your chest is flush with his; you feel his muscles moving against you. The sensation of everything, including his slight stubble rubbing your skin, has your body on fire.  

 

He brings an arm around your waist, locking you into him. His other hand slides into your wet hair and anchors itself there, cradling the back of your head.

 

As air starts to feel fleeting, you both slow down. The slow descent of movement takes form when your lips stay apart for a fraction longer than the last before finding each other again.  Eventually the kissing becomes chaste kisses every few seconds as you each slowly gain your breath back. 

 

You smile as you wipe droplets of water from his skin and he’s still placing kisses all over your face.

 

You pull back a little and place kisses along his collarbone. More are placed on his biceps as he kisses the side of your face he has access to. 

 

You melt back into him and rest your mouth against his shoulder. He leans down, kissing your neck and your own shoulder.  

 

“I love you too.” You say against his skin and you feel him smile against your shoulder before he continues his soft, tender kisses. 

 

\--

 

You dress in one of his henleys that hits you mid thigh. All his underwear is too big so you go commando instead; not like he hasn’t seen or been inside of that part of you before. 

 

You immediately crawl into his bed because the events of the day have finally fully caught up to your body. 

 

He sits on the edge of the bed next to you and inspects your cuts to see if you need extra care on any of them. 

 

You grip the back of his hand that's on your cheek, “Please come hold me.” 

 

His chest aches at your words, you sound so small and exhausted. He immediately moves over your body and crawls in next to you. His hand brushes your bare rear as it sneaks under his shirt you have on and splays across your back, pulling you into him. 

 

You fall asleep quickly. 

 

When you do wake up again, the sun is just starting to rise and the bathroom door is opened a crack, the light glowing from within. You hear paper crinkling and metal hitting the porcelain of the sink. You comb your fingers through your hair as you sit up. Yawning, you stand up and pad over to the door, pushing it open slowly. Your sleepy eyes squint from the bright light and you rub each one a little. 

 

You see his shirt, Kevlar, and jacket in a heap on the floor. He’s standing in front of the mirror, sewing a gash on his shoulder.  He catches your movement in the corner of his eye and turns his head. 

 

“Hey. You need to rest.” 

 

You walk over to him, running your hand down his side, over the obviously fresh bruises. You aren’t stupid, you know what he did.

 

“You left to kill them?” Your tone isn’t judgy or angry, just a simple question between lovers. 

 

He hasn’t looked away from you, his hands still paused mid-stitch. 

 

“Yes.” He massacred a large amount of them but he still has a few more nights of work to finish off the rest. Not one will be left alive, he’s vowed to that. Not after what they did to you. 

 

“Do you need help?” You gesture to his shoulder. 

 

“No, it’s alright. I got this.” And he continues finishing up his suturing. 

 

You start collecting the paper wrappers from the couple of gauze pads he’s opened and toss them in the garbage. He cuts the thread of his stitches and twists his torso left and right, checking in the mirror, to make sure he took care of everything. 

 

You run your fingers along his ribcage as you walk behind him to make sure he didn’t miss anything either. He just has a couple bruises back there too. 

 

He turns around, facing you, “What do you say I take you back to bed?” 

 

“Only if you’re staying there with me this time.” 

 

He smiles and combs his hand through your hair gently, “I promise.” 

 

He leans down grabbing your thighs, you know to wrap your arms around his neck, and he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his hips. 

 

You feel a deep breath leave his nostrils and a groan rumble in his chest when your unclothed heat touches his lower stomach. 

 

“You gonna take care of me, Frank?” You whisper against his ear as his hand grips your thigh tight while walking to the bed. 

 

His tongue juts out sweeping across his lower lip and you don’t miss the bob of his Adam’s apple. 

 

He lays down with you and he drags his fingertips up your leg, along your inner thigh. You shiver and goosebumps form instantly. 

 

His lips capture yours as his fingers find your opening. You open your mouth against his and gasp at his touch. He smirks and swallows your gasp as he kisses you again. Your hand grips his that's working on you below. 

 

As your body moves in response, and the kissing becomes more passionate, you know you will eventually need that rest he was talking about. 


	41. Bowling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was made for absolutely pure fluff reasons so Frank is more OOC than usual haha. Hope it's still enjoyable!!

You walk through the door in a huff. Today was just, not a good day. Five new deadlines were given to you, you got stood up by a potential source, and you spilled coffee on your skirt. 

 

As soon as you walk in, due to the apartment being the size of a matchbook, you look at Frank who just poured himself a cup of coffee and took a sip. 

 

As you hang your coat up and put your stuff down, Frank puts his coffee down on the counter, then turns around to lean against it. He sticks his hand out towards you, arm outstretched, no expression on his face but you know he’s reading your frustrated one. You place your hand in his and with that he holds your arm up and lightly moves your hand to the side indicating what you need to do; you playfully roll your eyes but can’t help but give a quick laugh as you let him ‘twirl’ you by giving a spin under your connected hands. He smirks and stands up a little straighter as he pulls you into him and into his other arm as he dips you and kisses your neck. 

 

Giggling you wrap your arm around his neck as he stands back up, with you now in his arms, pulled against his chest. 

 

You feel his grin against your ear as he places several kisses to the side of your face; if only people knew that The Punisher can be such a dork just to get a smile out of you when you need it. 

 

“I’m glad you’re home,” he whispers in a way that says, ‘at least there’s that’. 

 

“Me too.” You pull back as you feel him do the same and he kisses you.

 

His hands slide down to your butt and as your fingers dance at the nape of his neck, he says “You wanna change and I’ll take you out?” 

 

“What?” You look at him confused. He can’t go anywhere, he knows that. He can’t take you anywhere. 

 

The look of confusion on your face only makes him smirk more, “You heard me. Seems like you could use a night out and I think I know a place.” 

 

You feel him slide the zipper of your skirt halfway down, “Put on some jeans and sneakers and we’ll go.” 

 

\--

 

He holds your hand as you maneuver your way through the streets. He keeps the bill of his cap low as he gets you to your destination. 

 

“Bowling?” you say with a smile as you look at him. 

 

“Yeah. Sound good?” He grins. 

 

“Yes!” 

 

He walks inside with you and you see why he it was okay for him to come. The whole place has dark lighting and it’s got enough people to blend in but just enough where you can have a lane or two between each group playing. 

 

The two of you get your shoes and settle into your lane. Seeing Frank Castle in a pair of bowling shoes has officially become a highlight of your life. 

 

“So are you good?” you look to him. 

 

“I’m not bad. You?” He sets your names into the screen. 

 

“I could stand to improve.” You smirk as he looks at you with a raised eyebrow. 

 

“That’s a real writer’s way to word being horrible.” He laughs as you jab his side with your finger, a smile still on your face. 

 

“Ladies first,” he motions to the lane. 

 

You pick up the ball and take your turn, hitting 6 of the pins. The second part of the turn you hit 3 of the remaining 4. 

 

Frank gives a quick frown of his lips, “Not too bad. No gutter balls so you ain’t too horrible.” 

 

“Call me horrible one more time Fra...” you joke before a grinning Frank grabs your hip and cuts you off with a kiss. 

 

He presses a second, quick one to your lips before taking his turn. 

 

Frank holds the ball up to his face for what feels like 2 seconds then launches it down the lane getting a strike. And as much ragging as he does to get you going, he’s so humble about his own skills.  

 

He doesn’t gloat or throw his arms up, he’s sheepish as he walks back to you. 

 

“Shit, I  _ am _ horrible.” There’s no way you’re going to beat him. 

 

He laughs, “Nah, you’re not” as he squeezes your side gently. 

 

“You barely aimed, how?” you’re still in awe of what you just witnessed. 

 

He gives a small shrug, “I was a sniper, I aimed for a living.” 

 

You take your turn and get 9 pins down. You miss that final pin in the second part. 

 

“Damn it.” You groan but with a laugh. 

 

As Frank walks passed you to grab a ball, he holds his hand up, “Come on, that wasn’t bad.” 

 

You smirk as you give him a high five, “I guess not.” 

 

Once again, he holds the ball up for a second and launches it down the lane, getting another strike. 

 

He turns back to find you playfully glaring at him, “Are you kidding me?” 

 

You love his laugh, even moreso when it’s you getting it out of him. 

 

He snakes his arm around your waist, “I didn’t realize how competitive you are,” with another laugh. 

 

“I’m not competitive,” you say defensively, “but you’re so good that I stand no chance of winning regardless.” 

 

“That’s something a competitive person would say,” he smirks. 

 

A groan is followed by your forehead leaning against his chest; he’s so good at riling you up. He kisses the top of your head and chuckles. The next thing you know, he’s scooping you up into his arms, “You want me to help you on the next one? Teach you some of my oh so good techniques.” 

 

“Please, but can I get a soft pretzel first?” You wrap your arms around his neck. 

 

He smiles with a chuckle before he kisses you, “Yes, you can get a soft pretzel first.” 

 

He kisses you again before putting you down. Before you can even walk towards your purse, he’s handing you $20.  You thank him and go to the concession stand buying a big, soft pretzel and two waters. When you walk back to Frank, you place the waters down next to him and he pulls you into his lap. You hold out a piece of pretzel to him, his hands busy rubbing your thighs, and he opens his mouth so you pop the piece of pretzel in. 

 

He licks his lips of the salt and kisses your neck quick, “Alright, ready to learn?” He taps your thigh as he asks. 

 

You swallow the piece of pretzel you were chewing, place the plate on the table, and brush your hands of the salt, “Yes, sir.” 

 

He stands up with you in his arms and walks over to the lane, then puts you down. You pick up the ball and he stands behind you, pressed against your back. His arms encircle you as he moves the position of your hand on the ball. He then grips your hips to move you in a better position. 

 

“Alright, you gotta just take a breath,” and he places his hand right below your chest as he says that, “and let yourself focus.” His breath tickles your ear as he speaks low to you. 

 

“You want to focus on those small arrows there on the floor to aim the ball. Don’t aim for the center pin, you wanna aim for the space between the center pin and the one right next to it. You got it?” 

 

You nod, focusing on where he told you. He kisses the back of your head and lets your hips go, stepping away. 

 

You take a breath like he said and focus on the arrow pointing between the two pins. You actually visualize the ball hitting there, whether that actually helps too you have no idea. You swing the ball back and then swing it forward letting it go.  

 

You get a strike! You immediately turn around, a huge smile on your face, arms in the air, “Frank!” 

 

He smiles and walks towards you, clapping twice, “See! You’re just as good.”  

 

As you step up to him, your hands resting on his hips, he grasps your face gently. His thumbs sweep along your cheekbones as you say to him, “Thank you.” 

 

He gives you a quick kiss, “Wasn’t me, you did that.” 

 

You sink further against him, arms moving to wrap around him. He smiles against your lips as he kisses you again. When you two pull away, you let him go and slide your hand across his torso as you walk past him to let him take his turn. 

Frank does his usual move, but this time he leaves two pins standing, one on either side of the lane. 

 

There’s no way he could get them. This is like one of the worst pin positions to get. 

 

Frank turns to look at you, “What do I get if I knock ‘em both down?” 

 

You raise your eyebrow, “What do you want?” 

 

“Coffee with me every morning.” 

 

Your expression goes soft and you wear a sweet smile, “But we already do that,” and you know he knows that. 

 

“Then a promise that we always will?” His little smile is so cute. 

 

You both know that you’ll promise that whether he knocks them down or not. 

 

“You got it.”

 

He turns back and this time he takes a little longer to aim. You hold your breath as he launches the ball. In amazement you watch as the ball hits the pin on the left, at just the right angle, catapulting it across and into the pin on the right, knocking it down. 

 

Your mouth falls open slightly at the move; Frank turns around and walks over, wrapping his arms around your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck, “Incredible.” 

 

He just gives a little shrug and kisses you, “I had good motivation,” he smiles. 

 

“You definitely earned that promise,” you grasp either side of his jaw tenderly, “But you know I’d have given you that promise either way.” 

 

With a smug smile, “Yeah? Why’s that?” 

 

You smirk, “Because I love you.” 

 

His smile is so sweet, “I love you too.” 

 

You two go a few more times before it’s your final turns. You only got a couple more strikes after that first one, but you got a good amount of spares. Frank was still winning of course. 

 

On your final turn you got yourself a spare. Frank was now up and since he already won regardless, you decided to mess him up on his last play.  You jump onto his back and Frank doesn’t mind in the least. His hand comes to grip your shin where your legs are crossed against his stomach. Your arms wrap around his neck, “I told you you’d win.”

 

“Lucky guess was all.” He smirks before turning his head and kissing your forearm.

 

You laugh at his modesty and you notice he’s still picking up the ball and walking towards the lane with you on his back, “What are you doing?” you laugh. 

 

“Bowling,” he says nonchalantly. He taps your leg on his left hip, “Just swing your other one over here, I don’t want to get ya with the ball.” 

 

You can’t believe he’s going to do this but you do as he says and bring your right leg to his left side too. With your arms still around his neck and his left arm holding your legs in place, he uses his right hand to aim and launch the ball. 

 

He gets another strike. 

 

“No way!” You kiss the back of his neck with a laugh. You let him go and slide off of him. He turns around and grabs your waist, lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and clasp your hands behind his head as he looks up at you, “I wasn’t sure that would work, so I’m glad it did,” he chuckles. You kiss him as he walks back to the chair with you in his arms. He sits down, you now straddling him, “Did you have fun? That’s all I wanted.” 

 

Your heart melts. 

 

“I had so much fun! I can’t thank you enough for taking me here. I know it’s not the best decision for you, but it meant a lot,” you hug him tight, then kiss him. 

 

“Anything to see you smile.” He runs the back of his finger down your cheek gently. 

 

You lean in and kiss him deeply. 


	42. Not His

Frank gently tucks some hair behind your ear, his thumb grazing the tip. 

 

With your eyes still closed, you bury your face into your arm a little more, “Hmm, tickles.” 

 

He gives a lopsided grin, “Yeah?” and he moves to bury his face against yours, “Does this?” and starts slowly placing kisses along your skin. 

 

You’re lying naked next to him, under the sheets. Your arms are under the pillow, your face tucked against one arm. Frank’s been propped on his elbow, admiring you for the past few minutes before you woke up. 

 

Giggling at his actions, you open your eyes and turn onto your back underneath him. He smiles down at you, “G’ Morning.” 

 

“Good Morning to you too,” you lean up, kissing him. As soon as you feel him kiss back, you lay your head back down, him following without breaking from you. 

 

“Coffee before you run out of here?” He asks with a smirk. You’re in his bed, the one he keeps at his safe house in Brooklyn, the nicest one of the three if you could say that. 

 

“I only run because I’m always late. And I’m always late because of you,” you playfully scowl at him. 

 

“Yeah, yeah,” he feigns belief as he kisses you again, but he knows it’s true. He’s first to admit that he can’t keep his hands off of you and that’s on a normal day. The days, like this one, where he isn’t sure when you’ll be in his bed again are the days you’re always late. 

 

“Yeah, yeah,” you mock him with a smile which gets you a quick nip on the neck. Frank kisses the spot he nips before pulling back to look at you, “Go shower and I’ll start the caffeine drip.” 

 

It’s only because you have work that he isn’t jumping in with you. 

 

A few more shared kisses before you give Frank a nudge to get off. He complies, standing up and pulling on a pair of sweatpants.  You walk into the bathroom and get into the shower. 

 

You keep just a couple outfits at his place and bought a hair dryer to have there too. 

 

When you’re finished showering, you tuck the towel around you and blow dry your hair. Once that’s done, you walk back out into the open room layout of his apartment and into the kitchen portion. 

 

As you walk over he pours you a cup and even pours some creamer in; creamer that he only owns because of you. Handing you the mug, he leans back against the countertop to sip from his own. 

 

You take a sip and feel his arm wrap around your waist pulling you into him. Smiling as you take another sip, a kiss gets pressed into your hair and you feel him breathe you in before one more kiss is given. He finishes his coffee first, as always, and puts the mug down so he can fully embrace you against him. 

 

“When’s he back?” 

 

He had been holding off asking as long as possible, but it had to be asked at some point. 

 

“Tonight,” you answer quietly, not looking at him. 

 

You see, you aren’t Frank’s as much as he wishes you were. You’re cheating  _ with _ Frank. Ryan is your boyfriend of almost a year. He’s a financial consultant which means he travels for work frequently.

 

You and Frank were together at one point, but The Punisher got in the way. Frank had to leave for awhile and he broke it off with you before he did; didn’t want you to put your life on hold for him in case he didn’t make it back. Well, he was gone for a year and you reluctantly moved on in that time. When Frank finally came back, he saw you and Ryan leave your building one night so he knew, knew you finally were heading for a life you deserved.  But just because you found another person, didn’t mean the chemistry with Frank had evaporated. The night he made himself known to you, things picked up where they left off despite Ryan being in the picture. You didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did.  

 

Soon enough, it was happening more and more. Whenever Ryan went away for work initially, but then you’d sneak away at lunch or you’d tell Ryan you were busy with work or friends some nights, instead making your way to Brooklyn. 

 

It wasn’t just about the sex, it was about the connection you and Frank have always had. You loved each other, it just so happens that Frank leads an abnormal lifestyle to put it incredibly simply. 

 

Stopping the relationship with Frank has come up several times from each of you. Frank’s points always being that Ryan can give you a normal life, one that isn’t dangerous. You always say you’ll give it another week with Ryan to see, but that week always comes and goes. Your points are the same, but those times Frank will agree but his actions don’t. 

 

Frank can’t stand the idea of you with someone else. He even made the mistake of going to your place one night and hearing your moans through the bedroom window as Ryan moved on top of you. It ended up being one of Frank’s most brutal nights. 

 

He knows he doesn’t do enough to push you away but he knows it’s because he doesn’t want to. He tricks himself into believing that if you stay with Ryan, you’re keeping your foot in the door of a real, true life. 

 

“So when does that mean I see you again?” 

 

This time you look at him, and he sees the slight frown you have, “I don’t know.” 

 

Frank nods slowly, his hand rubbing your back. You just lean against his chest and stare into your coffee as a silence falls over. 

 

After a minute or two he speaks up, “Stay. Call out sick and just spend the day with me.” 

 

“What?” But you heard him. 

 

“He’s not back til tonight you said. And shit, if I don’t know when I’ll get to hold you again I’m gonna need more time with you,” a small smirk on his face by the end. 

 

He sees your eyes light up as a smile slowly forms on your face. When you nod, you grasp his face with one hand and kiss him. 

 

\---

 

It’s two long weeks until you see Frank again. Work was too busy to escape to him at lunch and with Ryan back, you were with him every night. 

 

As soon as Frank opens the door and sees your face, he asks, “What’s wrong?” 

 

You step inside, him closing the door behind you before moving to stand in front of you. 

 

“He asked me to move in with him,” and you’re close to crying. 

 

He takes a deep breath. This was bound to happen. The relationship was only moving forward. 

 

“What did you tell him?” 

 

With a second of hesitation, “Yes.” And your tears start falling. 

 

“Hey, c’mere,” Frank pulls you into his arms, holding the back of your head as you press your face against his chest. 

 

When you finally calm down, he walks you to the bed where he takes a seat on the edge and pulls you onto his lap. His arms around your waist, hands clasped together against your hip, he asks, “You love him?” 

 

You nod slowly, “But I still love you too.” 

 

He presses his nose against your cheek before kissing it. 

 

“You can love two people. I do.”  Maria and you. 

 

A few stray tears roll down your cheeks, “But with him and I living together, how can I still see you? Even when he goes away, the doorman will know when I don’t come home and what if he tells Ryan?” 

 

Frank wants so bad to be selfish, to tell you that you should dump this guy, but he loves you too much to do that. 

 

“Maybe it’s time we finally stop doing this?” And his heart clenches at him hearing himself say it out loud. 

 

“You don’t mean that.” 

 

“Yeah, I do. This life I have shouldn’t be anyone’s first choice; hell, it ain’t even mine. And I shouldn’t be anyone’s first choice. All I bring to the table is danger and death, ain’t nothing worthy about that. You need to let this guy give you better than this. Let him have all of you, because I’ve had all of you before and I can tell you how incredible it is.” 

 

You lean your forehead against his and tenderly stroke his jaw as his hand slides into your hair. 

 

“You stayin’?” he asks quietly.  

 

“I can’t. I came here to tell you.”

 

He lets himself sigh as the reality starts sinking in, “Shit, I’m gonna miss you.” 

 

You pull away to look him in the eyes, wiping your tears as best you can, “I’m gonna miss you too.” 

 

He cups your cheek, thumb wiping the tears, and kisses you.

 

\---

 

It’s been about a month since you moved in with Ryan. It’s been great, but Frank is always in your mind still. You miss him so much. 

 

The buzz of your cell phone wakes you up in the middle of the night. You look over your shoulder and make sure Ryan is still asleep, which he is. 

 

It’s a text message from Karen, one of the few who knew about you and Frank. 

 

_ Karen: It’s bad. Come to Matt’s.  _

 

It was Frank. You threw on leggings and a sweater and were out the door in minutes. 

 

Walking into Matt’s apartment you smell blood instantly and your heart races even more. Walking into the living room, you see Claire, Matt, and Karen in the bedroom.  

 

Walking up behind them, your sob alerts them to your presence. 

 

Frank is laid out on Matt’s bed, blood covering almost every inch of skin. He has lacerations all over his chest and torso, a bullet wound to his shoulder, split lip and multiple bruises and cuts to his face. It’s the worst you ever saw him. 

 

You stay at Matt’s for a week, never leaving Frank’s side. You use vacation days at work and you tell Ryan your drug addicted friend relapsed and needs your help. 

 

Frank’s unconscious for two of the five days. That third day, he opened his eyes and realized where he was. Looking down he could make out numerous gauze pads under the blanket draped over him. He also registers the feeling of a hand in his so he turns his head to the side and finds you asleep next to him. You’re so close but not touching him except for your hand in his. 

 

He laces his fingers with yours and gives it a little squeeze. He watches as you slowly wake up, looking at your hand and seeing his moving, then quickly look at him. 

 

“Oh my god, Frank!” You sit up on your knees as you lean over him. A hand lightly on his cheek, “You know how mad I would have been if you didn’t wake up?!” you say in a low panic.

 

He chuckles but coughs. Instantly you move your hand to his chest, “Hey, shh, shh. Don’t talk.” 

 

“Got a few things to say,” he gets out.

 

You gently rub his chest as he speaks, “What the hell you doing here?” 

 

“Karen texted me.” 

 

“Ah, shit. I’m sorry she did that. I don’t think she knows.” 

 

“I’m not sorry. God, Frank, if you died and I wasn’t here,” your voice catches at the thought. 

 

He squeezes your hand, “Hey...I’m glad you’re here.” 

 

A small laugh escapes from you at his choice of sequence for his thoughts. You shake your head quick and lean down kissing his forehead. 

 

“I love you, Frank,” you whisper against his skin. 

 

“Gonna love you the rest of my life,” he replies. 

 

\---

 

It’s been weeks since that night, Frank has since fully healed. He’s back to doing something that he’s been doing a few times a week for almost a year, tailing Ryan. 

 

There was no way he wasn’t going to vet the guy who stole your heart. But he also likes to tail him now and then just to keep his information up to date. 

 

On this day he watches as Ryan enters a jewelry store. He watches as Ryan picks out an engagement ring. 

 

He watches as any last chance he had with you disappears. 

 

\---

 

A week later, you knock on Frank’s safe house door.  He opens it without a word and you walk inside. 

 

He shuts the door and glances at you before walking past you, “Guess Congratulations are in order.” He goes back to packing his guns into their crates. 

 

You stare at his back, “How did you know?” 

 

He turns his head towards his shoulder so you can hear him, “May have tailed him a couple times.” 

 

“Of course.” You shouldn’t be surprised. “Frank, will you please look at me?” 

 

He hangs his head for a second before standing up and turning to you, “Look, honestly, this isn’t easy for me” he confesses. 

 

His eyebrows knit together when he sees the amused smile on your face. 

 

You take your hands out of your coat pockets, “I said no,” and you hold up your left one to prove no ring.

 

He slowly walks closer, “Why?” He knows though, but he selfishly wants to hear it out loud. 

 

“Because I don’t want to be his, Frank. I want to be yours.” 

 

“You ain’t nobody’s. I’m the one who's yours.” 

 

He’s got your face cradled in his hands now, a grin on his face. 

 

Using one of his lines, you ask, “That right?” with a smirk. 

 

With a quick chuckle he kisses you softly. After you lean into him and he pulls away slowly, he asks, “You stayin’?” with a knowing grin. 

 

“Yes.” 


	43. Hard Habit to Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short, little something

As soon as you get inside your apartment, you just toss your purse on the table, slip off your shoes, and shed your pants. It’s late. You worked late and you’re exhausted and all you want to do is sleep.

You walk over to your bed and look at it.

“Damn it, Frank!” you groan to no one.

Your bed was made with military precision, hospital corners and all.

You’re so tired, you have no strength. You try to pull the covers back but they’re tucked in so damn tight. You give up, grab your pillow and settle down on the couch. The blanket you always keep draped on the back comes in handy to help you snuggle in. You’re dead to the world in minutes.

In the morning you wake up to hearing the shower going which means Frank just got back. Sitting up, you rub your stiff neck and get up to make coffee.

As soon as you hear him walk out you turn around.

“Frank, no more making the bed,” you half whine, half groan, “I appreciate it, but I can’t get the hell in it!”

He’s only in a towel and he’s got that amused lopsided grin on, “Someone’s cranky,” he chuckles as he walks over and pulls you into his arms.

“Yeah, I am. My neck hurts from the couch,” you mumble against his skin as you’re snuggled into his chest.

He instantly starts rubbing the back of your neck.

“Hard habit to break,” referring to the bed, “How about I mess it up for you and you can sleep a little longer?” he smirks.

An affirmative sigh, “Yes, please.”

He kisses your cheek and lets you go. He goes to the bed and pulls out his corners and makes it sleepable again.

“Alright, get your butt over here.” He waves you over.

“Oh my god, thank you!” You kiss him quick before sliding in under the covers and settling in.

“Get _your_ butt in here, I missed you last night.”

Frank laughs and ditches the towel before sliding in after you. He pulls you into him and kisses you softly, “I missed you too.” He again rubs the back of your neck which feels so good.

“How about you just keep doing that and I’ll forgive you for the bed?” You sleepily ask as your eyes close.

He kisses your forehead, “Deal.”


	44. Real Laugh

God, when was the last time he laughed this hard? He can’t remember. Was it...that day? Right before…? He can’t pinpoint it. 

 

It all started when you sassed him. It was a lazy morning in bed and you told him that despite it always smelling slightly of gunpowder, his beard made him look like a lumberjack. 

 

With a raised brow, he simultaneously smirked and started tickling you in retaliation; you never stood a chance. 

 

In your attempts to escape, you wiggled yourself right off the edge of the bed. 

 

He keeps replaying how the second you knew you were going over, your eyes widened. Your arms reaching for nothing and you shouting his name like that alone might have saved you. 

 

In his defense, he did lunge for you. But by the time he grabbed your wrist, your butt already hit the floor. 

 

The second the thud sounded, you both erupted into laughter. Real, deep, genuine laughter. 

 

You pulled your wrist from his grasp to cover your flushed face, muffling your hysterics. Frank immediately followed, as he laughed he slid off the same side to get to you. He caught himself then lowered his body on top of yours. Both of you shaking with laughter. 

 

He smoothed his hand over your hair, then resting it on the back of your head, his knuckles pushed into the rug. 

 

“You okay? Did you hit your head?” He’s sincere, but the laughing doesn’t help that come across right.  He pulls your hands away from your face to reveal a huge laughing smile.

 

“Oh my god!” You can’t believe what a doof you are but you also don’t fail at finding the humor in the whole thing. You aren’t sure who’s laughing harder, “No, just my ass hit.” 

 

He presses his smiling face into your cheek, his breath hitting your skin with each laugh. He manages to kiss your face between chuckles. You feel his stomach push against yours slightly with every laugh and you wrap an arm around his neck. 

 

After a couple minutes, the laughter naturally dying down, he feels a drop of wet on his forearm and looks at you. You have a few tears rolling down your temples as you’re looking up at him. 

 

“Hey,” he kisses you quick, “Thought you said you weren’t hurt?” He pushes up a little to start glancing down between your bodies. 

 

A smile, despite the tears, “I’m not, promise.” 

 

You run a hand through his hair. 

 

“Sweetheart, than what’s wrong?” He wipes a tear away. 

 

“Nothing,” you scratch his beard gently than give him a kiss, “I’ve just never seen you laugh like that before.” It was honestly one of the most pure, beautiful moments to witness from him. 

 

“It suits you, Frank.” 

 

He kisses you softly, “Yeah, well, I’ve got  _ you _ now. You make me smile again, and laugh,” he says with an amused grin, “two things I needed back in my life even if I didn’t realize it.” 


	45. A Tease

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Implied smut

You love every moment with him.  Even the ones filled with worry and blood and stitches.  But the moments like this are some of your favorites; the ones where you two look like any other normal couple getting ready for bed.  No one the wiser that by the end of the night, Frank will most likely have blood on his hands.

 

Frank is brushing his teeth at the bathroom sink.  You’re leaning against the wall, next to him, struggling with opening a plastic package of razor cartridge refills for the past two minutes. 

 

You again try to tear it with no avail.  The stubborn woman that you are, you keep trying, “So then Foggy, in all his drunkenness, thinks it’s smart to start with this guy on his choice of sporting a mullet…” as you continue your story, Frank tucks the toothbrush into his cheek.  He puts his hand on your wrist, causing you to look at him.  He waves his fingers in one movement indicating to give him the package which you do.  You watch his biceps flex as he uses his incredible strength to tear the plastic in one shot, freeing the cartridges from its confines.  He hands them to you and tosses the plastic packaging into the trashcan. 

 

He pulls the toothbrush out of his mouth to say with a smirk, “So tell me Nelson made it out alive.”

 

You kiss his cheek as a thank you for the help, then proceed to change the head of your razor, “He’s alive alright, was even given a few black and blue gifts courtesy of Mr. Mullet.”   Frank laughs at that. 

 

You sit on the edge of the tub, water running, and proceed to shave your legs.  Frank spits out the last of the toothpaste, running the brush under the faucet before tapping it on the side of the sink. 

 

“How many bar fights have you gotten into in your life?” You ask as you glance at his back.  You finish up the one leg and start on the second.

 

Frank chuckles and turns around.  He leans against the sink, arms crossing at his chest, “Maybe 5 or 6.  But it was usually just back up for my buddies.  Never went looking for a fight like some of them did.”

 

He narrows his eyes a little for a second, a smirk at his lips, “What about you?”

 

You don’t look up, but he sees you blush and a small smile on your face. 

 

“No shit?  Now you gotta tell me.”

 

You laugh and look at him, “Twice.  First time was in college.  This guy kept hitting on my roommate and she was such a sweet, kind person.  She was being as polite as possible to shut this guy down but he wouldn’t have it.  We all were telling him to get lost and it still wasn’t making it through his thick skull.  Finally, after having a few mind you, I couldn’t take him anymore.  I punched him in the nose.”

 

Frank smiles something proud, “Atta girl.”

 

You blush and laugh a little, “He fell back into this other guy who then punched him as well and well, a full-on brawl broke out.  My friends and I were able to make it out before we got blamed for starting it.” 

 

You’re both laughing when you’re finished.   You rinse your legs with the water and shut the faucet off.  You grab the towel, drying them. 

 

“And the second time?” He asks, taking the towel from you and laying it on the counter as you stand up.

 

“Four years ago.   Some girl tried to steal my bag, so I did the only thing I could think of to stop her.”  You shrug with a smile.  Frank chuckles and shakes his head.  He wraps his arms around your waist, yours wrapping around his neck, “I knew you could be a force to be reckoned with, but I didn’t realize your fight history,” he jokes.  

 

“You afraid of me now?” You tease.

 

“Terrified.” He says low as he leans in, kissing you.  You smile against his lips.  Gripping your waist, he picks you up, your legs wrapping around his hips.   You both pull away slowly and you hug him as he kisses your collarbone while he walks you both out and towards the bed.

 

“You going out there tonight?” You kiss his temple.

 

“Have to.  Big meeting they’re having.  Bunch of sitting ducks.”  He kisses your neck before leaning down and placing you on the bed.   Your eyes stay on him as you watch him walk over to his duffel and crouch down, checking the ammo for each gun inside. 

 

“So small chance of you getting hurt?”  You glance at him before grabbing your lotion. 

 

“Should be.” He looks at you and sees what you’re grabbing.  Smiling to himself, he stands up.  Before you know it he’s next to you again and grabs the lotion from your hands, “Here, let me.”

 

You blush, “Frank, I swear if you start something before you leave…” 

 

Only a smirk appears on his face as he squeezes some lotion into his hands.  He rubs his hands together and sits down next to you.  Once you place your foot on his knee, he starts rubbing the lotion along your bare leg.

 

“You sayin’ I’m a tease?” His gravelly voice asks.  He takes his time as he moves his hands along your thigh and down your calf. 

 

Goosebumps form from his soft movements, and whenever his hands get to your upper thigh you feel the heat growing within. 

 

He squeezes more lotion into his hands and repeats the actions on your other leg. 

 

“You know you can be.” You say low with a small smile.

 

A quick, gruff chuckle escapes him, “So you’re saying if I start something, I better finish it before I go, yeah?”

 

He glances at you as you nod, eyes on his.  His hands begin rubbing your thighs, more specifically your inner thighs.  Then his hands move up, each taking a side of your panties and pulling them down.  You lean on your hands and lift your butt as he slides them off, over your knees, and down your calves before tossing them to the side.   

 

He places a couple light kisses on each knee, before spreading your knees more and starting a trail of kisses down each inner thigh. 

 

“Frank” you breathe out.

 

Once he finishes with the kisses, he grabs the hem of your t-shirt and pulls it off of you leaving you completely naked.   He stands up and takes off his sweatpants.  As he moves over you, you lay down and wrap your arms around his neck as his lips find yours. 

 

He runs his hand down your thigh and holds your leg around his hip as he enters you.  

 

He makes sure to finish what he started. 

 

__

 

His forehead drops to your shoulder, his chest heaving against your own.  His breath dances along your skin as your fingers glide through the hair at the back of his head.  He lifts his head to kiss your neck a couple times.  You turn your face towards him and he kisses you passionately. 

 

Rubbing your knees against his hips, “You sure you still have to leave?”

 

He kisses along your jaw, mumbling in between, “Who’s the tease now?” His hand gripping your knee for emphasis. 

 

You smile as you hold him tighter against you.  His lips kiss your ear before he’s leaning up on his elbow to look down at you.  He smooths back your hair as a soft smile appears, “Yeah, I still need to leave.”

 

You just give a little nod before grasping his face gently and pulling him down to you.  You kiss him one more time.  He runs his thumb across your cheek, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before getting up.   You sit up after him, just watching him at first.  You watch his butt as he bends down picking up his boxer briefs and pulling them on.  He grabs his cargo pants next, pulling them on.  His muscles ripple with each movement.  Standing up too you grab your panties from the floor and pull them on.  Reaching into the closet you grab one of Frank’s flannel shirts because you’re cold already without him on top of you.  When you finish buttoning it up, you catch Frank watching you with a cute grin. 

 

You blush and you walk over to him.  Tugging gently on his dog tags, his hand already on your hip, you pull his lips to yours.  His other hand cups your cheek as he kisses your forehead.   You break away from each other and you go to walk past him, but you turn back to wrap an arm around his waist and press a kiss between his shoulder blades.  Walking into the kitchen, you’re oblivious to Frank looking over his shoulder at you. 

 

He pulls on a t-shirt and straps his Kevlar on.  He holsters a few weapons to his belt before throwing on his jacket and grabbing his gear bag.    When he turns around, you’re standing there holding his thermos. 

 

“Figured you wouldn’t turn down some hot coffee to take with you.” 

 

Frank makes his way over to you, placing his bag on the table.  He takes the thermos from your hand and holds it as he wraps his other arm around you, pulling you close against him. 

 

“You’re always looking out for me.”

 

You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “You do the same for me.”

 

“Always will.”  He says low, as he leans in more, nose just barely brushing against yours.  He kisses you softly, “I’ll be back soon.” 

 

“Be careful.” 

 

He kisses your forehead before leaving. 

 

__

 

When he gets back home, he’s injury free.  The night couldn’t have gone easier.

 

He finds you asleep on the bed, above the covers.   He quietly puts his gear down and takes off his clothes.  He walks over to your side and grips your ankle, thumb rubbing your skin.  You arch your back a little as you stretch slightly, opening your eyes and smiling once you see his handsome face. 

 

“You look good.”  You quietly say. 

 

He smiles and teases, “You told me to be careful, so I was careful.”

 

You roll your eyes, but you smile.  “So, about earlier…I feel bad about teasing you after I told you not to.  Thought maybe I could make it up to you,” you unbutton the first button of his flannel you’re still wearing. 

 

“Seems only right,” he takes over for you, slowly undoing each button himself.  When he gets to the last one, he slowly pushes the fabric aside revealing your bare chest. 

 

He places a knee on either side of your legs, as his hands slide up your bare sides, he leans down, “Here, let me warm you up.”


	46. Moving Forward  (Tumblr Request)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'd love to read your version of Frank buying lingerie for his s/o. It's the first time he's done anything like this since buying it for Maria and I can hear his heart breaking but also wanting to move forward."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my very first fic based on a request. I know I didn't follow it exactly, but hopefully it's still alright.

Jesus Christ, his hands felt clammy. He can face a gang of gun-toting drug suppliers with a bloody smile, but the idea of walking into a lingerie store makes him feel like a goddamn teenager about to ask his crush to prom.

 

What lead him to standing outside such a store was his dog Max, believe it or not. You had left for work and Frank jumped in the shower.  When he was finished up and walked out, he found torn black lace and a ripped bag strewn across the carpet.

 

After close inspection, he realized it was lingerie you must have just bought, due to the ripped price tag he also found. Unbeknownst to Frank, Max found that bag shoved in the back of the closet. You were planning on surprising Frank by wearing it one night soon.

 

He felt awful and was able to piece the bag together to find out the store. That’s how he ended up here.

 

The second he steps inside he’s instantly overwhelmed. The walls are lined with so many different looking bras and panties in so many different colors.  He must look like the perverts he puts down walking around a store like this, baseball cap pulled low.  

 

What he wasn’t expecting was to feel emotional. Listen, he’s made love to you plenty of times at this point, seen you in your everyday underwear which he finds incredibly sexy on you. He never was a picky guy when it came to that. Hell, even when Maria had on her ‘comfortable underwear’ as she’d put it, she was just as irresistible as when it was one of her sexy pairs; he loved her, that’s why. He loved her so goddamn much that when it came down to it, didn’t matter what she wore, as long as she was there and whispered her love for him, he was as happy as anything.

 

And he knows that’s how it is with you now. Seeing your face first thing in the mornings, gives him the same warm, comforted feeling that he got when he’d look over at his wife. It scared the hell out of him, what with his life being anything but normal, but at the same time it was so nice having that kind of love back in his life.

 

“Shopping for the missus or a girlfriend? You seem a little lost. Would you like me to help you find something she’d like?”  The perky saleswoman breaks him from his thoughts.

 

“Uh, thank you, but I think I’m just gonna take a look around first,” he gives her a polite smile.  Yeah, she probably thinks he’s a perv.

 

He makes his way along the wall, scanning the different items when his heart clenches. He feels tears threatening to form as a lump forms in his throat.  Reaching out, he grabs the fabric of the bra between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing gently. Hell, this was it. Once he spots the tiny little heart charm in the middle, it’s confirmed. Same color and all.

 

Maria had this. Wore this even, just for him. Olive green she bought it in, him being a soldier and all.  It was after his second tour. He had stepped out to tuck the kids in bed for the first time in a year, and when he entered the bedroom there she was. This olive green, almost sheer, bra and panty set adorning her figure. His camouflage jacket draped on her frame as she kneeled on the bed waiting for him.

 

“A soldier deserves a proper welcome home,” she purred at him.

 

“Shit,” he whispers to himself.  

 

He knows he’s moved on in a lot of ways, but Maria...Maria would always be with him. He will always feel a loyalty to her.  How the hell could he buy lingerie for you when she still occupies his thoughts?

 

He drops the fabric from his fingers like it bit him. Taking a step back, he finally looks away from it as he starts heading for the door. He shouldn’t have thought he could handle this.

 

But then something happened, something he didn’t expect. As his eyes glanced at the merchandise as he headed towards the door, he spotted a set that was a dark pink, magenta maybe they call it?

 

And he found himself smiling because the first thought that popped into his head was how it matched the color of your cheeks when he’s got his hands on you.  

 

And just like that, he stops in his tracks. A realization hits him.

 

He gets lost in the pain and the memories of Maria that he doesn’t realize how often you take up his thoughts too.

 

He thinks of you everytime he sees a dog he’d know you’d love. Everytime he sees your favorite flower. Whenever he smiles really, it’s almost always because of you.

 

He loves you, that’s why.

 

You give him that something he thought he didn’t need anymore, that something that he never believed he’d find again. You gave his heart a home.

 

He knows you had bought a black set, and as sexy as that is, it’s this dark pink set that he wants to get for you.

 

\--

 

When you walk inside the apartment at the end of the day, the last thing you were expecting was to find the lingerie bag on the bed. You thought you hid that pretty well.

 

Frank walks to you from the coffee pot and wraps an arm around your waist to pull you into him. His other hand cups your cheek and your confusion at the bag turns to a smile at the sight of him.

 

Your infectious smile makes his own bigger.

 

And he knows, you’re absolutely it. It’s you he needs in his life. Why an asshole like himself was somehow lucky enough to find a second person to love in this lifetime, he’ll never know.  

 

“Hey,” he says low before kissing you softly.  

 

His thumb sweeps across your cheek as your tongue runs across your bottom lip after the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck, you kiss the corner of his lip, “Found my surprise I see.”

 

His hands run down your sides slowly before coming to rest on your thighs. He smirks, and you could almost swear he was even blushing a tiny bit, “About that,” he chuckles, “Max found it and ripped it to shit. That is the replacement.”

 

You lean back a bit as you run your hands over his shoulders and down his biceps, “Frank, you actually went there and bought me lingerie?”

 

You couldn’t believe it for some reason. Just didn’t seem like something he’d do. Yet, you found it to be such a sweet thing.

 

“Yeah. Hell of a place, I’ll tell ya that.”

 

With a laugh, you kiss him. You walk over to the bag as he follows you, explaining.

 

“Listen, it ain’t the exact one you bought. I know you had black, but I saw that color and thought of you and I just…” he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck when you pull the lacy set out of the bag.

 

It’s beautiful. And you look at him with a smirk, “Why’d the color make you think of me?”

 

Seeing your smile puts him at ease, as usual. He grins and steps closer. He lifts his hand and runs a knuckle sweetly down your cheek, “Because of this. You blush the same color when you’re around me.”

 

Could you be any more lucky to have such a man love you?

 

“Frank,” you quietly awe.

 

“You’re gorgeous when you blush, so I knew that color was the one.”

 

Lightly you grip the front of his shirt and pull him towards you as you lean forward. Your kiss is slow and deep.

 

“I’m gonna go put these on,” you whisper against his lips. Your hand slides down his chest as you walk past him to the bathroom.

 

He moves the bag to the floor.  It’s the first time since Maria that he’ll have a woman dressing up for him. He starts worrying that he’s gonna fuck this up somehow, let his past cloudy this possible future with you.

 

He’s starting to get lost in his thoughts when the bathroom door opens and out you step in that lacy bra and panties.  

 

Every thought in his head disappears at the sight of you.  The way your body fits in them so perfectly. The color brought out the blush of your skin in the most perfect way.

 

“(Y/N),” he says so quiet, so in awe.

 

You walk to him and grip his hips, “I love it, Frank.”

 

His eyes scan your body some more before looking at you.

 

“You look real good,” he gets out as he swallows since his throat feels dry all of a sudden.

 

You grab the hem of his shirt and start slowly sliding it up, “Just ‘real good’?”

 

Once he lets you pull his shirt off, he gently backs you up against the wall. His hand roams up your back as the other slides over the curve of your ass and squeezes gently.

 

His lips find your neck, “Better than ‘real good’. Fucking sexy is what you look like,” he murmurs against your skin.

 

As he works at sucking a mark on your flesh, you reach out and unbuckle his belt, then unzip his fly.

 

You got him twitching in his jeans, but he pulls back and takes your face in his hands. Both of you breathless as the need for each other grows with every touch, you look at him.

 

The desire is still in his eyes, but his stare is soft. The slightly rough pads of his thumbs stroke your cheeks.

 

“Frank?” you question as he just looks at you with such tenderness.

 

“I love you.”

 

This is only the second time he’s said that to you, but you react as if it was the first time all over again. Your hands come up to hold onto his wrists, your own thumbs smoothing over his pulse points.

 

This is Frank. He doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean, no matter how heated the moment is.

 

“I love you too.”

 

He leans in and his kiss is sweet and tender. When he pulls away, you move your hands to his hips. That deep, gruff voice of his continues.

 

“This...us...it’s the best part of me. I just want you to know that. You...you’re the best part of me.”

 

He moves his hands to the sides of your chest and as he slides them down, his thumbs brush your breasts through the lace which causes you to gasp quietly, you’re still so wound up.

 

Now it’s you grasping his face and you pull him forward as you lean back against the wall. You kiss him with such passion that he has to put his hand on the wall to brace himself.

 

“You’re a great man, Frank. I just want you to know  _that_ .” 


	47. Only Way You Can

It started with Frank going out to do recon on a location. It left you and Micro alone where Frank naturally became the topic of conversation. That led to Micro speaking about Frank’s past and then at some point asking if you wanted to see videos.

“Videos? But how…?”

Micro looks a little sheepish, “When I first heard what happened, I...uh...I hacked into Maria’s Apple account to retrieve any pictures or videos she had stored. You know, uh, just in case Frank ever wanted to see them.”

“So Frank knows about this?”

“Well, no. Not yet. I haven’t figured out how to tell him yet...or even if I should tell him, now that he’s...doing what he does.”

“I don’t know if we should, if he doesn’t even know about it.”

“I understand, but...maybe you just want to see who he was...learn more about him.”

And on some level, you do. You feel like you’d be going behind his back somehow, but you’ve always been curious as to the man he was before.

With a short nod, Micro opens up the file on his computer and starts opening videos.

You see Maria filming Frank as she wakes him up, wishing him a happy birthday. Frank is all smiles and playful banter. He ends up taking the phone from her and putting it to the side, but it’s still on them. You watch as the loving couple caress each other and kiss.

Tears well up instantly.

Another video is of Frank playing soccer with the kids in the backyard. Another of Frank and Maria where Maria notes how Frank is actually cooking for the family that night. Another of Maria filming the kids to send to Frank presumably, only for the camera to swing to the window and Frank is getting out of a cab in his uniform, Maria excitedly announcing that Daddy was home!

It was all so much and yet, you were happy to see them. Tears were streaming down your face and you heard sniffling from Micro.

“What is this?” you hear a quiet, but gruff voice from behind you.

Slowly, you both turn around to see a teary-eyed Frank standing there, staring at the screen before looking between you both.

“Ah, Frank...it was me...we were talking and…”

“Excuse me, sorry!” you quickly say as you stand up and rush past Frank, exiting the apartment.  You couldn’t stop crying. It was cowardly of you to run like that but it was bad enough to have Frank finally see them, but he didn’t need to see you and Micro crying over them too. You don’t go far, only up to the roof to collect yourself.

It had to be about twenty minutes later when Frank appeared. You can only assume he tore Micro a new one for the whole situation. You still had tears flowing, but your sobs had quieted.

You hear the roof door shut and the sound of familiar footsteps get close. As you turn around, “Frank...what you and Maria had was...so beautiful,” your voice quiet, but a sincere small smile on your face.

“Yeah, yeah it was,” his voice cracking a bit which makes your chest hurt.

“Maybe you were right,” and you see his brows furrow at your words, “Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

And you’re not mad in the slightest with your words. You’re genuine in your thought and you still have a nervous smile on as you shrug your shoulder.

“Why you sayin’ that?”  

The friendship with Frank began a little over a year ago, but the romantic relationship only started a couple months ago and not without it’s issues. Frank was hesitant. Always going on how he was too dangerous to have anyone now, how you deserved someone normal, and how he didn’t know if he could truly give you what you deserved. And you stayed patient, letting him know you were all in, danger or not, all of him or not.  And somewhere along the way, he found that his heart ached for you when you weren’t around and eventually he allowed himself to surrender to another woman.

So for him to hear you basically agreeing with his old thoughts, is confusing to say the least.

“Because, _you’re_ the one who deserves better.”

“Better than what?” he narrows his gaze for a second like he does when he’s asking a smart ass of a question, “Better than you?”

“Yeah. Better than me,” you wrap your arms around yourself protectively and he notices.

Before he can say anything else, you keep talking.

“She was gorgeous, Frank,” and you smile at how happy they were in the videos, “and so happy, and she was so in love with you.”

“She was, she absolutely was,” he nods with tears in his eyes, “But you’re talking like you aren’t.”

And you aren’t sure which part he’s referring to exactly, but you blush all the same.

“I can’t do that for you,” and you’re not sad really, just disappointed, just defeated, “I can’t make you _that_ happy. But my god, do you deserve to be. I don’t even know if it’s possible anymore, but I hope it is because of anyone in this world, _you_ deserve to be that happy.”

He looks up at the sky for a second and when he looks back at you, you see a couple tears down his cheeks as he has a smirk on, shaking his head.  The smirk is only there for a few seconds before it disappears.

“You ain’t replacin’ her.”

“I know,” and you do. You would never want to.

“You don’t feel the way she did. You don’t smell the way she did,” and he slowly walks closer.

“You don’t kiss like she did and you don’t sound like she did.”

And his words are starting to hurt as you don’t understand his point.

“I loved every single thing about her. I _knew_ every single thing about her.  What song to play to make her happy, where to kiss her to get her to grab my arm, how long she needed some time alone after a tough day, all of that shit.”

You’re afraid to even respond, as if it would be disrespectful to her memory.

“And I fucking miss her. Every single goddamn fucking day. I miss her.”

You both have more tears falling now.

“So no, you could never make me happy like she did.”

And just like that, your heart starts to break.

“But hell, you make me happy the only way _you_ can.”

And just as fast, the cracks in your heart cease.

“The way I felt with her and the way I feel with you...hell, It’s not something you can compare.”

He reaches out and wipes a few of your tears.

“You feel different, you smell different, you kiss different, and you sound different, and I love it all.”

Blush creeps into your cheeks.

“And I’m starting to know every single thing about you. What movie to play to make you happy, where to kiss you to get you to grab my hair,” he smirks through his tears, “and when to give you space depending on how sarcastic you are with me,” and that gets a quick laugh out of you.

“You’re nothing like Maria, but that will never be a bad thing,” he cups your cheek, “Because who you are makes me a different kind of happy than I had with her, but it doesn’t make it any less than what I had.”

“Frank,” you whisper.

“You wanna stop what we’re doing? I’m not gonna stop you because I still believe you deserve someone better. But believe me when I tell you that you make me happy and fuck if I ever thought that was possible again.”

You tenderly caress his jaw and wipe some of his tears.

You hug him and you swear his body relaxes when you do. He tenderly smooths the back of your head as he holds you close.

“You still in this? Because I know I said I wouldn’t stop you but shit, I was lyin’ through my teeth with that one,” he smirks as he steps back to look at you.

“Yeah, I’m still in this,” you place your hand on his shoulder, “But Frank, there’s no one better for me than you.”

“The Punisher isn’t good for anyone,” he leans in.

“You’re not The Punisher with me, you’re Frank Castle. And I saw him on those videos and I see him now and there is no better man out there.”

And Frank kisses you deeply in response.

And he won’t tell you but he thinks how Maria would have said the exact same thing.


	48. It's Not Your Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the following, written by terrifiesthem on tumblr: "concept: someone holdin frank and telling him that what happened to his family wasn’t his fault"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is more Frank centric than Frank/Reader centric.

Today is the first anniversary of his family’s murders.

 

Work couldn’t have gone by any slower as your mind stayed on Frank all day. You hadn’t seen him in a few days and with today being what it was, you were worried for him.

 

Both relief and surprise flood through you when you hear a couple quick taps on your window before it was being opened.  In steps a no-bloodier-than-usual Frank Castle.

 

Words escape you as you don’t know if you should carry on as normal or make some kind of statement about the day’s memory.  Before you can make a decision, Frank decides for you.

 

“Nothing too bad this time. Just some that’ll need a quick stitch up.”

 

And following his lead, you just nod, “Yeah, no problem.”

 

Frank takes his gear off and you both settle into the normal routine of patching him up inside your bathroom.

 

It’s relatively quiet this time, just occasional talk about where’s he’s been. You’re about done sewing the gash in his shoulder when his voice cuts the silence.

 

“You don’t gotta keep lookin’ at me like that. I ain’t gonna fall apart on you.”

 

And you know he’s not referring to his wounds.

 

“You know there’s nothing wrong with it if you do,” you offer with a glance as you tie off the stitches.

 

“You’ve been talking to Red too much, startin’ to sound like a shrink.”

 

Putting the scissors down, you stand up from kneeling in front of him. Frank slowly puts his shirt back on, trying not to pop any of your handiwork.

 

“Have you even really grieved for them, Frank?”

 

You watch as he stands up from his seat on the toilet lid. He’d never hurt you, but you’d be lying if you said his broad stature wasn’t slightly intimidating.

 

“What are you sayin’ right now?” He asks low, eyebrows knitted together.

 

He’s annoyed and dare you say, offended at your question. He knows you better than that. Knows you’d never mean it that way. That’s your first sign that he’s not anywhere near as okay as he’s letting on.

 

“That’s not what I mean. I know you’re heartbroken, I know you’re devastated,” and he looks away with a shake of his head as he walks out of the bathroom with you hot on his tail, “But did you ever actually stop and let yourself take time to truly grieve for them? Or did Marine mode kick in too fast, and a course of action was planned instead?”

 

And you mean that last part; no sarcasm attached. He’d only come home the day before they were killed. A soldier doesn’t just stop being a soldier because he’s home.

 

Frank stops and turns around to face you.

 

“You think I’m some mindless robot of a soldier who can’t even comprehend what happened to them?” And his tone scares you because you’ve never heard it before, not directed at you anyway. Another sign he isn’t okay.

 

“You know that’s not…” but he cuts you off.

 

Frank slams his fist down on your counter top making you jump.

 

“My kids were gunned down in front of me! Murdered!”

 

Tears spring to your eyes as he yells at you. But you know it’s not truly directed _at_ you.

 

“My daughter’s face was ripped apart by bullets, bullets from the same fucking guns that I've used. My baby girl’s face! You hearin’ me?!”

 

A short nod is all you can manage as you feel tears running down your cheeks.

 

“My son couldn’t even breathe there was so much blood in his throat,” you see Frank’s eyes threatening to spill their own tears as his anger begins morphing into devastation.

 

“And Maria,” his voice finally cracks with emotion, “my beautiful wife...she held onto our son in his last moments, _her_ last moments, as she bled out from a hole in her chest,” tears are running down his face as he looks lost in memory now, voice quieter but still so heavy with emotion.

 

“He died before she did,” his brows furrow as he looks at you, “I ever tell you that before? His hands went limp before hers did.  She had to watch our little boy die. I will forever regret not reacting when I heard that first shot, but I’ll also regret that, that she had to experience that as her last memory in this fucking world.”

 

And he goes quiet, eyes cast to the floor. You’re shaking and crying, afraid to move and take this heart wrenching, but healing moment away from him.

 

A deep sob leaves him as his eyes are back on yours and his hand is running over his hair, “I miss them so much,” he says it like it’s a secret he’s sharing out loud for the first time.

 

You don’t even think about it when you hug him tight, cradling the back of his head. His arms slowly return your embrace as his tears soak your shoulder.  

 

“Couldn’t keep my own goddamn family safe in a fucking park!” he manages to get out between his anguished cries.

 

You pull back and take his face in your hands. Through your own tears, “It’s not your fault.”

 

“They were my whole world! The three of ‘em were everything to me! I do what I do because if I don’t, I ain’t ever comin’ back from losing them.”

 

He pulls away from you and turns around. You watch as his hands become fists, arms tensing. He growls as he yells “FUCK!” and punches a hole in your wall.

 

Not deterred by his actions, you quickly move in front of him and hug him again. He stays tense but after a couple minutes, he’s hugging you back.

 

You just hold onto him, rubbing his back as he runs a hand down the back of your head every now and then.

 

When you’re both calmer, tears almost dry, you whisper, “It’s not your fault, Frank.”

 

His chest heaves against yours with a quiet shuddering sigh, “I’ll never be able to believe that.”


	49. Sounds Like You're Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You tend to a sick Frank

The sound of deep coughs rouse you from your sleep. A shiver passes through your body as it acclimates to not having a warm wall of muscle wrapped around you as usual.

 

The smell of coffee reaches you as you look over at the clock. 5 am. Two hours before you have to wake up.

 

Another cough, then two sneezes follow. All from the kitchenette a few feet away from the bed. You lift your head and see Frank pouring a mug of coffee. His hair is damp and even though he’s in his sweatpants already, a quick glance at the bed shows he hasn’t been in it yet.

 

The rain outside pelts against the window and the whistle of the wind every few minutes makes you subconsciously shiver.

 

Frank sips his coffee as he leans against the counter. His eyes peer over the rim and find yours as you’re sitting up.

 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he apologizes.

 

You shake your head as your feet touch the floor. With a yawn you walk over to him and grasp his hips, “Don’t worry about it. Sounds like you’re sick.”

 

He gives a quick smirk as he gently tugs his shirt you're wearing out of the top of your panties by your hip, the shirt somehow working its way in from you tossing and turning.

 

“I’m not sick, just got a cough is all,” he slides his hand under your shirt to rest on your lower back.

 

Lightly you scratch his bare chest, “Mmhmm” you hum as you turn in his grasp, his hand now on your stomach. You reach up to open the cabinet and pull out a shot glass and the bottle of whiskey. Frank raises a brow as he watches you pour out a shot. Turning back to him, he lets you take the mug out of his free hand and replace it with the shot glass.

 

“This ain’t the kinda shot I usually take,” he jokes.

 

He gets a playful eye roll and a short laugh out of you with that. His mug gets placed on the counter then you slide your hands to his waist and squeeze gently, “I have to buy cough syrup, so for now just down that and hopefully the burn will clear something up.”

 

He shakes his head with a smirk before downing the liquor with a toss back of his head, not even wincing from the burn.

 

As you take the empty shot glass back, Frank turns his head as he sneezes.  Turning back he meets your raised eyebrow expression.

 

“Just a cough my ass. You sat outside all night in this storm, soaked. It’s no surprise you’re sick, Frank.”

 

He runs a hand over his face in frustration. You’re right, you both know it.

 

“It’s nothing. I’ll be fine. ‘Sides I ain’t done with those assholes.”

 

“Well tonight you are, so come get some rest,” taking his hand and leading him to bed.

 

He wraps his arm around you from behind and pulls you back. Softly he mutters against your hair, “I’ll just keep you up. I should get out of here, head back to my place.”

 

You turn around and nuzzle his jaw before grasping it, “Then keep me up, just don’t leave. Please stay.”

 

He looks at you and brings his hand up, thumb skimming your cheek. Followed by the back of his finger doing the same.

 

“Not going anywhere,” he agrees after a few seconds of looking at you and those beautiful eyes of yours.

 

Your lips brush the corner of his quickly as you continue to bed, both of you crawling in.

 

Frank was right, he did keep you up. It wasn’t his fault really, and you still would take him coughing next to you than him not being there at all.

 

It was 6:30am when you decided to get up for the day. Frank managed to fall asleep somehow. You quickly and quietly showered then threw on clothes as you headed to the nearest convenience store. Cough syrup, cough drops, soup, tissues, and more coffee since you swear it runs in Frank’s veins.

 

Frank wakes up a couple hours later to the smell of chicken soup and fresh coffee.  Instantly he feels the searing pain of his raw throat from all the coughing he’s done. Slowly he sits up, bringing his legs over the edge, and looks over at the stove.

 

Your back to him, you’re stirring the pot of soup a couple times before shutting the burner off. He smiles but then glances at the clock before looking back at you. Leggings and a t shirt - obviously not work attire.

 

“You stayin’ home because of me?” And even he cringes at his voice. Grittier than usual with a couple cracks like a teenage boy.

 

At his words you turn around, walking towards him.

 

“Knew the smell of coffee would wake you up,” and you get a little smirk from him at that. Now standing in front of him, you run your hand through his messy hair as he’s wrapping his arms around your thighs and resting his head against your stomach.

 

“And yeah, I am. Why? Rather me leave you alone?” You tease.

 

He mumbles, “Never” against your shirt before looking up, chin on your stomach, “Was just confirming I had you to myself before I got my hopes up,” he smirks.

 

“Is that right?” you smirk, leaning down to kiss his forehead.  

 

As you stand back up, so does he. He holds the back of your head as he kisses your hair.

 

“Come on,” you take his hand and lead him the couple feet into the kitchen, “That throat needs some soup,” and you pull out a chair for him as you go to the stove and pour him a bowl, “I know tea isn’t an option for you.”

 

“No ma’am,” he rasps out with a grin as he takes a seat, “But I’ll be grabbing a cup of that coffee.”

 

And as he says ‘coffee’, you place a bowl of soup and a mug of coffee in front of him.

 

“Thank you,” he chuckles then coughs.

 

As you sit down next to him with your own mug of coffee, you rub his upper back. He eats the soup and you can tell from his expression that it’s soothing the soreness.

 

The exhaustion sets in when you sit down. Being woken up by his coughing last night ripped away any chance of a good night’s sleep.  Both of you are quiet - him eating, you tired. When he’s done he looks at you, “I really fucked up your sleep,” and he says it apologetically.

 

With a tired smile you touch his wrist, “Frank, it’s nothing. Honest. I want you here getting better. If you went to that shitty apartment you call yours, I guarantee you’d be in worse condition right now.”

 

That lopsided smirk, “How do you figure?”

 

He knows you’re absolutely right, but he loves to challenge you for fun.  Loves to tease one another. He stands up and pours the rest of the soup into his bowl then pours more coffee for the both of you.

 

With a playful roll of your eyes, “Oh please! Asbestos has got to be rampant in that place. No good for that cough you got going on.”

 

Frank can’t help but laugh despite the coughs it causes.

 

“Plus, you’d probably be continuing living on coffee and the fumes of gun cleaning oils.”

 

Frank puts the pot of coffee back and is still cough laughing at your words. You can’t help but laugh too despite feeling bad at his coughing fit.  Getting up, you rub his arm, “On second thought, maybe I’m worse for you than that health code violation.”

 

Frank manages to suppress the coughing then wraps you up in his arms, “Ain’t nothing better for me than you,” he grins against your temple as you hug him.

 

You kiss his shoulder before moving from him. He sits back down to finish his soup and coffee as you grab the cough syrup from the shopping bag.

 

The plastic cup it comes with, you fill to the line and place it next to him. Frank eyes it as he finishes the soup in front of him.  

 

“You gonna make me take that, huh?”

 

With a laugh at his unexpected response, “Yeah, I am.”

 

“Shouldn’t even bother fightin’ you on it, yeah?”

 

You shift your weight to one hip and fold your arms across your chest with your eyebrow raised slightly. But a smirk on your face, “Yeah, that’s right. Why? Can’t handle medicine well?”

 

Frank gives a short shrug, then stands up with his now empty bowl, “Just ruins the taste of my coffee after I take it.”

 

“Only for a minute or two,” you pull a second can of soup out from the bag and hand it to him. You can tell he’s still hungry. Frank takes it with a sheepish grin and pours it into the pot.

 

“Thank you by the way,” Frank turns away from the stove to step closer to you, “For all of this. Gettin’ me this stuff, stayin’ home, just...takin’ care of me. It feels...nice. Feels familiar,” and he glances down as he opens up to you with that last bit.

 

Softly, you take his face in your hands and lift it back up, pressing a kiss under his eye, then above his nose. His hands move to your hips, then slide to your lower back.

 

If he wasn’t sick, you’d kiss him. Instead you let him go to slide your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up on your tiptoes slightly as you hug him. Frank hugs you back and feels his heart flutter as your nose nuzzles his ear.

 

“I love you,” you whisper against it. Not the first time you’ve told him that.

 

-

 

That very night, you come out of the shower, one of Frank’s t-shirts on and your damp hair is over your shoulder as you towel dry it, to find Frank putting his Punisher vest on.

 

“What are you doing?” you ask him, already annoyed.

 

“I gotta finish what I started yesterday.  I wait and there’s a good chance I lose track of them. Can’t let that happen,” he starts strapping some guns to his body, checking the magazines before he does.

 

“You can’t go out there, Frank.”

 

“I have to,” he glances at you as he pulls on his leather trench coat.

 

Tossing the towel on the table, you march up to him, “No.”

 

“What are you doing?” he asks gently, he asks like you should know better.

 

“You’re still sick. You’re not your best self right now, whether you admit it or not. There’s a good chance you make a mistake tonight and in your line of work Frank a mistake could be lethal.”

 

“I’m better than I was this morning. Look, these assholes don’t deserve to live, believe me. So I’m willing to risk it,” and he goes back to packing his gear bag.

 

The angry tears heat up your face. Frank’s face doesn’t even register shock when you shove his body, his eyes just widen for half a second.

 

You barely move him, just making him take a step to the side.

 

“Well I’m not! I’m not willing to take that risk!” you shout at him. Frank just stands there, watching you.

 

“You know what a deep loss feels like, Frank! Well if anything happened to you, if you died, that’s exactly how I’d feel!  Do you even care?!”

 

He takes a step so he’s closer to you, “I care. But...this is me, this is what I do. You know that.”

 

“I’m not asking you to stop. I’m asking for you to wait...wait until you’re better. That’s it.”

 

He reaches out and cups your cheek, his thumb brushing some tears away. He just looks at you for a few seconds before answering.

 

“I can’t.”

 

Instantly you step back, more tears threatening to spill.  He reaches for you as you walk past, but you’re too quick; only his fingertips brush your arm.

 

You walk to the sink and start cleaning dishes. Just anything to distract you from how sad and worried you feel.

 

“Come on, don’t do that,” you hear his voice as it gets closer, as he gets closer.

 

Silence from you.

 

His arm presses against your lower back, hand finding your hip.

 

“Be pissed at me, but at least let me still tell you good night. That I love you.”

 

You stop washing and look at your sudsy hands briefly. And just when he thinks you’ve forgiven him, you go back to washing.

 

His face falls more than just the frown that was on his face, but you don’t see it.

 

You feel him kiss your temple. Hear him whisper, “I love you.”

 

Then your back is cold as his arm is pulled away. The thumps of his boots moving towards the window.

 

Quickly you wipe your hands on the dish towel, “Frank!” you call to him.

 

He stops and turns just as you’re on him, kissing him deeply.  With no hesitation his hands are along your back, pulling you into him. As soon as you stop, you feel tears spring to your eyes and you look at him.

 

He sees it still. Your frustration with him, your sadness.

 

“I love you too,” and your own voice breaks a little at the end causing you to quickly turn around, heading back to the sink.

 

Frank watches you for a beat before turning and leaving through the window.

 

As soon as the window shuts, you stop washing the stupid dishes. Gripping the edge of the sink, you hang your head and watch as your tears fall, mixing in with the soap suds.

 

Wiping your hands off again, you shut the water off. You tidy up the apartment, make sure the front door is locked, and start turning off the few lights you have.

 

It couldn’t have been all but 20 minutes when you go to turn you side table lamp off, when the window opens up.

 

Frank’s eyes never leave yours as he steps back inside.

 

He’s on the other side of the bed, his side, just standing there, looking at you. To anyone else he’d appear emotionless, but not to you. His eyes, you see right away how sad they are now too.

 

“I’m so sorry.”

 

It’s all he needs to say to have you stepping up onto the bed, crossing it before you’re practically jumping into his open arms.

 

That nose of his is pressed into your neck as he holds you close.

 

“I’m stayin’. I promise you, I’m stayin’.”

 

-

 

Within a couple days Frank is healthy as can be again, thanks to you.  

 

He comes home shortly after you do, finished with his recon for the day and prepping to go out into the night, and he spots you already in bed.

 

“Hey, you okay?” he sits on the edge of the bed, hand coming to your forehead, “Shit, you’re burning up.”

 

“I feel awful,” you manage to get out before coughing. The covers get pulled up more as you curl tighter into the fetal position underneath, “Be careful tonight, okay?”

 

And he’s speechless. You’re obviously sick and you aren’t asking him to stay home, just asking him to be careful.

 

“I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

 

The questioning look you give him makes him want to almost laugh, that you’re so selfless you can’t understand why he would.

 

“You take care of me. I take care of you, sweetheart. That’s what couples do,” he leans down and kisses your forehead.

 

“Are you sure? It’s okay, I know it’s your first night back out there. Things you need to do.”

 

“The only thing I need to do is get my girl healthy again. Besides, you’re sick because you kissed me that night,” he gives a small grin, “My germs did this to you.”

 

You give a small laugh, followed by a small cough, “That kiss was well worth it. You need to know how much I love you before you leave every night.”

 

The loving smile that spreads on his face makes your heart jump.

 

He kisses your cheek, stubble scraping your jaw as he whispers in your ear, “You need to know how in love with you I am.”

 

He’s staying home with you. Forgoing his first night out in days to take care of you.

 

You know.


	50. Father Figure  (Tumblr Request)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: "a frank castlexreader where y/n's daughter is going on her first date and frank decides to have a talk with the boy and just happens to be cleaning his guns while he does? It could be his daughter or he's dating a single mom"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My notes from Tumblr: "Anon, I hope this is okay. I’m going to be honest, it was tougher to write this than I thought. I know I write Frank x Reader fics, but I’ve never really written Frank as a father figure before, knowing what happened to his children, so it was a bit hard to get into that mindset. All I can say is I tried my best."

The first time you saw Frank, he was saving your 8-year old daughter.

 

The second time you saw him, it was because he was on your doorstep a week later checking to see how she’s doing. 

 

The rest as they say is history.  Eight years later and you’re still together.  And Frank is the best father to Emma, much more than her own father ever was.

 

It’s the night of Emma’s first date and you don’t know who is more nervous, Emma or Frank.  Between the two of them, you’re ready to just get her out the door so it can be over.  

 

 You’re sitting on Emma’s bed as she’s holding up dress after dress for you to help her pick.  Frank is leaning against the doorway, “That green one ain’t even an option, it’s too short.”  

 

“Frank,” you try to say sternly but you can’t help but laugh.  

 

“Oh my god, would you get out of here?” Emma groaned at him.  Emma loves Frank, but she’s sixteen now.  Her attitude matches her age at times. And with Frank as a father, his over-protectiveness tends to irk a teenager trying to have a love life.

 

Frank holds his hands up and steps back, heading downstairs.

 

“Em, he’s just looking out for you,” you say to her after he walks away.

 

She sighs, “I know. But Mom, if it were up to him, I’d never go out with anyone, and don’t tell me I’m wrong, you know I’m not” she points at you.  You can’t help but grin because that’s a move she picked up from Frank. It’s amazing how he’s been in her life for several years, but yet she’s picked up his habits as if he’s known her since birth.

 

“You’re right, but still. This is a big deal for him too, you know that.”

 

And she does.  It was only a couple years ago that you and Frank finally told her about Frank’s past with his family’s murders.  She understands more now why her relationship with Frank is so special, especially for him.

 

“I’m sorry, I know.”

 

You nod and stand up, kissing her head, “I like the yellow one.  If you need me, I’ll be downstairs with him.”

 

You leave her room and head downstairs to find Frank in the living room, a couple guns out on the coffee table being taken apart.

 

“Really, Frank?” you raise an eyebrow with a smirk.

 

“What?” He glances at you before continuing to take the guns apart.

 

“She has a boy coming over for the first time, and of all nights, now is the time you need to clean your guns?  Right here. In the living room.”

 

“Kid needs to know whose daughter he’s taking out.  And don’t tell me I’m wrong, you know I’m right,” he says as he points at you.

 

With a laugh, you sit down next to him and wrap your arms around his neck.  His arm snakes around your waist, pulling you into his lap as he sits back.

 

“You know I love how protective you are of her, but she knows more self-defense moves than anyone else her age thanks to you.  And they’re sixteen, Frank, he’s not going to kidnap her.  She’ll be fine.  I don’t think you need to threaten him with your armory right off the bat,” you giggle as you kiss him.

 

Frank pulls you close as he deepens the kiss, one hand sneaking under the back of your shirt, “Just want to spook him is all.  I was a sixteen year old boy once, I know what they’re thinking about.  This kid needs to know that ain’t an option with her, ever.”

 

“What am I going to do with you?” You smile.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“It’s her first date. Chances are she won’t end up marrying him, which means there’s more dating in her future.  And if this is you with her first date, I can’t imagine it’s going to get any easier,” you laugh.

 

“Ha ha,” he mocks but he does smile before kissing your neck.  

 

“Mom! Can you help me with my hair?  He’s going to be here soon!” You hear your panicked sounding daughter shout from the top of the stairs.

 

He frowns slightly as you pull back from him, “Listen, when he shows up, just don’t be so…you know…Punisher-y.”

 

Frank laughs at that but he shrugs, “I’ll try but no promises.”

 

Playfully you roll your eyes and stand up, “If he comes while we’re still up there, his name is Bobby. Be nice, Frank,” you warn.

 

Sure enough, a couple minutes later the doorbell rings.  Frank groans and stands up slowly on purpose.  He opens the front door to find a kid, about chin height, standing there, “Yeah, hi. I’m here for Emma.”

 

The kid has a baseball hat on, hands shoved in his pockets, and a wrinkled t-shirt.  Frank looks him up and down before meeting his stare.  

 

Frank shuts the door, leaving him out on the stoop.

 

“ _Frank!”_  you hiss from the top of the stairs, “Let him in!”

 

“Baby, did you see him? I’m doing her a favor!” he quietly argues.

 

“Frank!” you scold again.

 

“Alright, alright,” and as he turns to open the door again, you go back to helping braid Emma’s hair.

 

Frank opens the door again, “Sorry about that…thought you were somebody else,” he bullshits, “Emma’s almost ready, come on in,” and he steps aside to let the young man in.  

 

Bobby steps inside and looks around as Frank shuts the door behind him, “Billy’s here!” Frank shouts up the stairs.  

 

“My name’s Bobby,” he corrects Frank.

 

Frank just looks at him, “Does it really matter?”  Frank then grabs the kid’s baseball hat off his head and shoves it against his chest.

 

He heads into the living room and takes a seat on the couch then gestures to the arm chair across the coffee table, “Have a seat kid.”

 

As soon as Bobby enters the living room and sees the guns laid out, Frank can see his attitude change.

 

Bobby nervously sits down and keeps eyeing the guns with wide eyes.

 

“Where you plannin’ on takin’ her tonight?”  Frank starts calmly cleaning his gun parts.

 

“Uh, um, well, to get some food.  And then, uh, you know, uh, this arcade place,” Bobby gulps.

 

“You got money on you, yeah? Guy should always pay,” Frank looks at him.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Yes,” Frank corrects him sharply.

 

“Uh, Yes,” Bobby stutters.

 

“Let me tell you the rules for tonight, so listen closely,” Frank tells him.

 

Frank keeps his eyes on Bobby as he talks, and the entire time he’s assembling his guns without looking, “You don’t touch her.  You don’t look anywhere but her face. You treat her with respect, that means pulling out her chair, paying for her, making sure she’s taken care of.”

 

Bobby just nods slowly, swallowing every few seconds, as he nervously listens.

 

“You bring her home on time. 11pm on the dot.  If you are late, if she comes home crying, or if I find out anything happened that she wasn’t happy with,” Frank continues, “Well, let’s just say you’re going to want make sure that none of that happens,” and once his gun is assembled, Frank clicks the trigger of the empty gun.  

 

Bobby’s eyes widen and just then Emma and you come walking down the stairs.  

 

“Hey Bobby!” Emma says excitedly.

 

Frank stands up followed by Bobby doing the same.

 

“Hey, uh, hey Emma,” Bobby nods quick, then looks at you, “Mrs. (l/n)”.  

 

Emma spots the guns on the table and looks at Frank, then turns to look at you, throwing you a look.

 

“We should get going,” Emma states.  Bobby, relief flooding through him quickly walks to the front door.

 

Emma hugs you goodbye then goes to Frank, hugging him.  Frank kisses her head, “You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he whispers.

 

Emma pulls back and looks at him, and she can’t help but smile at him despite his obvious tactics to intimidate her date, “Thank you.  Love you, Frank.”

 

“Love you too, Em,” he grins.

 

With that, the two teens leave for their date.  

 

Frank looks at you, “Chinese food and a movie?” Then starts heading into the kitchen to grab the Chinese food menu.

 

“Hold on Castle,” you follow him, “How bad did you scare him?”

 

“Just enough to get my point across,” he looks at you as he grabs the menu from the drawer.

 

“And exactly what movie were you planning on watching?” you cross your arms against your chest and raise your eyebrow at him.  Sometimes he forgets how well you know him.

 

He just stares at you for a few seconds before admitting, “Emma’s first date,” he smirks.

 

“Oh my god,” you shake your head with a laugh, “How the hell did you manage….” But the realization hits you midway through your question, “…David.”

 

“Uncle Micro just wants to make sure she’s safe is all.  Just happens to have it available for viewing in real time,” Frank shrugs, but a proud smirk still on his face.

 

“Real proud of yourself, aren’t you?” you pinch his hip.

 

“Come on, it’s pretty good. And don’t act like you aren’t interested in takin’ a look,” Frank grins as he turns and wraps his arms around you.

 

“The only thing I’m interested in is you and me upstairs,” you smile as you kiss his jaw.

 

“That right?” Frank says low as his hands give your butt a squeeze.

 

“Mhm,” you hum as you look at him, “She’s gone for a few hours, which means we have the place to ourselves.”

 

Frank smirks as he leans in to you, “Micro does have a handle on the situation.”

 

“Absolutely,” you agree as you kiss him.

 

Frank pushes you against the counter as he slides the sides of your shirt up while his hands roam your skin, his lips parting more to deepen the kiss.

 

“Let me just put the guns away and I’ll meet you upstairs.”

 

“Okay, but don’t be long,” you kiss him again before pulling away from him and heading upstairs.

 

Frank cleans the guns up as he said he would, but he then pulls out his laptop.  He clicks the link Micro emailed him and up pops the live feed of Emma’s date.  He sees Emma and Bobby at Grey’s Papaya, waiting on line.  He texts Micro for any information he needs to know, but everything’s going fine is the report.

 

“Frank,” he hears you.

 

He looks over to find you in a tank top and panties, “It’s not nice to keep a girl waiting.”

 

Frank smirks, and shuts his laptop without looking away from you.  He stands up and walks over, hands finding your hips, “No it’s not,” he agrees as he kisses you.

 

Your arms move around his neck and he scoops you up into his arms.

 

“Bath then bed?” you suggest as he carries you upstairs.

 

Frank just grins, “Bed then bath.  ‘Cause after I’m finished with you, you’re only going to have energy for a bath.”


	51. Ammo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: implied animal abuse

It's the distressed, urgent yelping of a dog that has you running in your heels.   
  
A late night at the office lead you to walking the dark city streets to your apartment.  When you heard the dog, you immediately started running to find it. Animal lover is high on your list of personality traits.   
  
You slow down when you know you're close. You hear the sound of slapping, each one followed by the dog's yelps.   
  
As you slip off your heels before continuing down the alley, you hear a man cursing and shouting at the canine. Your adrenaline is pumping both from anger and fear.    
  
Rounding the corner, behind the building, you witness the abuse of a beautiful, amber-colored pit bull. 

\--  
  
Frank was on his way back to your apartment following his nightly patrol, when he heard in the distance, the faint, unmistakable sound of a dog in pain.   
  
He picks up his pace as he heads in that direction.  
  
\--  
  
Locating a metal trashcan cover, you quietly pick it up and move swiftly  
  
The sound of metal crunching reverberates within the alley.   
  
The man falls to the ground, still conscious. The dog runs to the corner of the nearby dumpster, cowering, tail between its legs.   
  
\--  
  
He's about five blocks from the yelping when it goes quiet. He fears he may be too late.   
  
Frank continues forward, checking down every alley hoping to find the poor animal.   
  
He then hears shouting and he moves faster.   
  
\--  
  
The man looks up and sees you holding the metal lid. You back up, but you don't back down.   
  
"Fucking bitch!!" He jumps up faster than you thought.   
  
Horrible plan, you knew that but you couldn't live with yourself if you had walked on by.   
  
The man lunges for you and you initially keep him at bay with the lid until he rips it from your hands, chucking it down the alley.   
  
You see stars as your head connects with brick as he shoves you into the wall.   
  
You hear the dog growl, presumably at the man, until he kicks it to shut it up.   
  
"Leave him alone!!"   
  
\--  
  
Your voice.   
  
Frank hears your voice down the alley and he feels like his heart is going to jump out of his chest.   
  
\--  
  
You grip the wall and manage to pull yourself up while he kicks the dog a couple of times.   
  
You find a small, broken pipe near your feet, which are bleeding from the tussle.  You come up on him, smacking him in the head with all your might, sending him onto the pavement.   
  
Quickly, you glance at the dog who seems to be okay before turning your attention on the fallen man. As you go to strike him while he's down, he whips out a handgun and fires.   
  
\--  
  
You feel a warm mound of leather under your head instead of the cold, gritty asphalt you were expecting. 

  
  
It takes half a second to realize that your head was on someone's hand and a body was on top of you.

  
  
You look up into Frank's concerned eyes before his head whips around, in tandem with his arm, as he draws a handgun from under his jacket and fires two rounds into the man's face, who had just stood up over you, his own gun pointing at Frank's back.

  
  
His body drops, crumbling in on itself.

  
  
Before either of you even say anything, you hear growling near your heads.

  
  
As Frank slowly turns his head back, and you tilt yours back enough to see behind you, you find the pit bull about a foot away.

  
  
Frank gently guides you up using his hand that’s behind your head, the one he used to stop your skull from hitting the ground.  Once you're sitting up, your back to the dog, Frank moves his hand, twisting his arm, so it’s against your back and gently pushes you behind him.

  
  
"Slow." He commands you quietly.

  
  
You do as he says and crouch behind Frank, hands on his back, "He's scared."

  
  
"I know."

  
  
Frank keeps his gun in his grip. He would never shoot an animal, but if it came down to you or the dog, he sure as hell ain't choosing the dog.

  
  
He brings his other arm behind and holds your side. Together, you both slowly stand up.

  
  
The dog, still growling, starts to circle around you both.  Before Frank shoves you behind him again, the dog stands next to you, growling up at Frank.

  
  
"You've gotta be shittin' me," he holsters the weapon. 

 

Realizing the dog was trying to now protect you, you move so Frank is standing behind you. The growling stops and the dog just stares.

 

You crouch down again, Frank doing the same and moving next to you. You reach down for his hand and grasp it gently. You bring your hands forward to the dog's nose. 

 

"You're trembling..." looking at the side of Frank's face. You know he's not afraid of some dog. 

 

He glances at you before looking back at the dog, "You were almost killed." 

 

He says it with such finality, that it almost feels like he figured you should have known that was why.  And maybe you should have.  The only thing that scares the Punisher is losing someone he loves.

 

You give his hand a squeeze in response. 

 

The dog’s nose twitches as he sniffs your skin, tail wagging.  He licks your hands, then moves forward panting. You let Frank's hand go as the pitbull shoves his face in your grasp. You scratch behind his ears as Frank reaches out and pets him. 

 

You motion to the dead body of the abuser, "Do we leave the body out in the open like that?" glancing at Frank. 

 

"Tonight, yeah. I want to get you home." He touches your forehead and shows you the blood on his hand from it. 

 

"He's coming with us,” you kiss the dog's head and stand up alongside Frank. 

 

"I figured,” he says with a slight smirk.

 

Frank takes notice of your shoeless feet. They're covered in cuts and dirt and he can already make out a small piece of glass embedded in your skin. Just the thought of you walking on them makes him wince.

 

"Christ, come here,” and within a second you're lifted into his arms. 

 

You rest your cheek against your arm that’s wrapped around his neck and close your eyes. 

 

He sees your eyelids shut and he gently jostles you, succeeding in getting you to wake up.

 

"No, hey, you gotta stay awake. You might have a concussion." 

 

You look over his shoulder and see the pitbull panting and wagging his tail behind you. 

 

As Frank starts walking, you watch as the dog happily trots behind with a limp. 

 

"He following?"

 

"Yeah,” you smile. 

 

"Good. Hey, keep your hand to your head, need to keep pressure on it until I can look at it." 

 

"Yes Doctor,” leaning your elbow on his shoulder, you put your hand to where you feel the blood. 

 

After a minute, he glances at you, your eyes closed. He digs his fingertips into your skin where he's holding you, "Stay awake for me, come on."

 

Your eyes shoot open, "Sorry, sorry...I just feel so tired." 

 

"Why don't you figure out what we're gonna call our new boy here."  

 

"Hmm..." you look down at the pooch. He almost walks just like Frank. Chest out, head high, determination in each step. 

 

"How about Ammo?" 

 

Frank looks at you with an amused smile, "Ammo?" He thinks it over for a second, "Yeah, I like it. What made you think of that?" 

 

"Well, he sort of reminds me of you. Couldn't pick the name Frank though, now could I." 

 

"Me? How do you figure?" 

 

"He walks just as confident as you," you smile, then your voice grows softer, "and he _also_ wants to protect me." 

 

Frank shares a quick look with you before he smiles.

 

\--

 

Once inside your apartment, Frank sets you on the counter so your feet are hanging over the sink.  He shrugs off his jacket and pulls off his Kevlar. 

 

It’s when he takes off his jacket that you see his arm. 

 

“Frank, your arm!”

 

The left sleeve of his thermal shirt is drenched in blood.  He doesn’t even react when you point it out because he knew about it. 

 

“Why’d you carry me when your arm is injured?”  You go to get off the counter to look at him.

 

“Woah, stay there. I’m alright,” he makes it over to you in one stride, hand on your thigh. 

 

You take his arm gently and inspect it.  A bullet hole is torn through the material at his bicep. You gently prod it to see if there was an exit wound which there was.  As you inspect it, your mind plays back the events of what just happened when the realization hits you.

 

“Was this from when he shot at me?” You look at him and watch as his eyes stay fixed on your fingers on his arm.

 

“Better me than you.”

 

You slide your hands down his arm until you slide one into his hand, “I’ll take care of it.” 

 

Again you move to get off the counter, but his grip on your thigh tightens, “I’m fine. Now stay there.”

 

As Frank walks into the bathroom, you see him take his shirt off, dropping it next to the wall. 

 

Ammo is sitting next to the table, looking at you.

 

When Frank comes back, his bullet wound has gauze wrapped around it, blood already seeping through.  He’s carrying the medical kit you keep stocked for obvious reasons.

 

He places the kit on the table then turns to you.  He holds up a pen light and checks your pupils, “Alright, good. No concussion.”

 

He then wets a paper towel, he uses it to clean the blood from your face.  His large hand delicately grasps the side of your face to keep it still as he cleans.  He wipes the blood from some of the small scratches below the gash on your forehead. 

 

As he gets to the main source of the blood, the blood that makes it hard for him to see a big bruise already forming, you hiss at his touch.

 

Frank quickly pulls his hand away and you try in vain to stop the tears from forming due to the pain.

 

His eyebrows knitted in concern, he uses the back of his finger to wipe a few of your tears away.

 

“This is going to hurt like hell,” you don’t ask, you just state it.  There’s no question.  You have a bruise around a laceration that he most likely is going to have to stitch up; yeah this is going to hurt.

 

“One thing at a time. Let me clean it up first,” he takes both your hands in his one free hand, “Grip the shit out of it if you need to. Got it?”

 

You nod.  Frank is extremely gentle as he wipes the blood from around the wound.  It’s hard to imagine how brutal his hands can be when he’s like this with you. 

 

You only needed to grip his hand twice.  And each time, his thumb just rubbed the back of your hands soothingly. 

 

Watching him get the needle and thread ready, you feel your heart racing from the nerves.  He looks at you and he can easily read the worry on your face.

 

He moves over and opens a cabinet, pulling a bottle of whiskey from it.  As he hands it to you, “You should drink some of this.”

 

A groan is followed by you unscrewing the top and taking a few sips with a grimace.  Frank gives the bottle a nudge, “Yeah…more than that.” 

 

Your eyes go wide, “Frank, I swear. Just forget the stitches, okay? I don’t think I can do this.” 

 

“Can’t let you off the hook, sweetheart.  I gotta close this or it’ll never stop bleeding.”

 

You sigh and just keep drinking from the bottle until Frank’s grabbing it from you, “Whoa, okay. That’s good. Shit, girl,” he laughs. 

 

“Oh, yeah,” you nod slowly, “I’m starting to feel it.”

 

Frank grips your thighs, “Tell me when you’re ready.”

 

Laughing, you nod.  He knows you’re buzzed and he can’t help but laugh at how giddy you get when you are. 

 

After another couple of minutes, you’re feeling pretty good, “I’m ready!”

 

Frank laughs, “I’m right here, I hear ya.”   He takes your hands and tucks them under your thighs, “Don’t move your hands.”  You nod and giggle.

 

“I’m gonna do this as quick as possible, but you might still feel a little pain. Bite your lip if you have to because if you scream, you’re gonna draw unwanted attention,” he readies the needle.

 

“Aye, aye, Sir.”

 

“Whiskey probably wasn’t a good idea,” he shakes his head with a chuckle before grasping your face. 

 

You bite your lip as instructed and then you bite down even harder when the needle goes through your skin.  Squeezing your eyes tightly shut, you start humming some unknown tune to get through the pain.  A few minutes later, you feel two warm hands on your cheeks.  You stop humming and open your eyes to see Frank’s brown ones.

 

“I’m all done. You did really great,” he grins before kissing you quick.  The pain you did feel was enough to sober you up pretty quick. 

 

“And the headache? The pain or the whiskey?” You question as you rub your temple.

 

“Probably both,” he kisses your forehead.

 

With the major injury now taken care of he turns his attention to your feet.  Turning the sink on, his fingers stay under the running water until he deems the temperature appropriate. 

 

He takes your ankles and gently pulls you just a little closer. The warm water flows over your feet as Frank very gently gets the dirt and grime off without disturbing the cuts and pieces of glass.  

 

Once he finishes, he shuts the water off, and dries his hands.  He gently pats your feet with a paper towel.  He goes to pick you up, even as you protest due to his arm.  He moves you from the counter to one of the chairs at the table. 

 

He sits on a chair himself and scoots himself closer to you.  Grabbing the tweezers from the medical kit, he gently grabs your ankles and places them in his lap.

 

“I gotta get the glass out.  Just try to keep still.” 

 

You grip the sides of the seat and give him a nod.

 

As he pulls a piece out, the shot of pain that goes through your sole is intense.  You pull your foot out of his grasp.

 

“Ow! Frank!” you scold him.

 

He smiles and chuckles lightly, “What? I didn’t put the glass there.”

 

You bite your lip and move your feet back to his lap.  His hand keeps a tight hold on your ankle this time.

 

Ammo trots over and rests his head in your lap as your knuckles turn white from gripping the sides of the seat. 

 

“Thanks boy” you quickly pet him before gripping the seat again as Frank pulls another piece out.  You keep petting Ammo to distract yourself, but you still jerk at the pain every time he pulls a piece out.  Once finished, he cleans them which is just more pain for the night, then he wraps them up. 

 

“Alright, you’re all done,” he pats your ankles. 

 

“Good. Now let me see your arm, it’s only fair.”

 

He nods and scoots even closer to you, sliding the medical bag over to you.  You unwrap the gauze and you see the blood slowly seeping out still, from both sides. 

 

Ammo moves from your leg to licking Frank’s hand that hangs by the chair. 

 

“He’s lucky you found him,” Frank grins at Ammo.

 

“Yeah, and I’m lucky you found me,” you share a look with Frank then go back to inspecting his arm.

 

A silence falls over you both at that.  The fear that shot through Frank when he saw that gun aimed at you was indescribable.  The idea that if he was only a few seconds late you would be dead right now, is too much to deal with it.

 

It’s easier caring for Frank because his threshold for pain is higher than most due to his nightly actions.  Wiping an open wound with antiseptic barely causes him to flinch and stitching up two wounds on his bicep just makes him smile as he pets Ammo with his other hand as you work.  Finished within a few minutes, you wrap his arm in gauze as the final touch.

 

“He needs food and water,” you pet Ammo’s head as he looks between you and Frank. 

 

Frank nods, “I’ll take care of it.  You’re going to bed because your feet need to rest up.  No walking on them,” and he stands up then bends down, scooping you up from the chair.

 

“Your arm!” you protest once again.

 

“I still have it, it ain’t broke,” Frank gives you his reasoning. He walks you over to the bed and sits you down on it.  Before he walks away, he takes your chin in his hand and kisses you. 

 

Ammo follows you both to the bed where he sits next to the bed, head on the edge near your legs.

 

“I’m lovin’ him more and more.  Nice to know you’ll be protected even when I’m not here,” Frank chuckles before heading back to the kitchenette.

 

He uses a Tupperware bowl for some water and finds some leftover chicken in the fridge to feed the new man in your lives.  He calls Ammo over using his new name and surprisingly the dog comes right away.  The dog happily chomps away at his impromptu meal.

 

As he does, Frank makes his way back to you.  You lay back as Frank gently lays on top of you, his hand smoothing over the crown of your head before he’s leaning down and kissing you good. 

 

He feels your small hands smooth down his bare chest before sliding to move along his back as the kissing continues. 

 

“I came too close to losing you tonight,” he whispers between you both.

 

Combing a hand through his short hair, you then bring it to cup his jaw, “Don’t think about it,” you gently urge.

 

“Too easy to say that,” he places a few small kisses around your face.  Then he looks down at you again, fingers caressing your skin as you pull his face down for a few quick kisses.  Frank continues, “I need you.  I can’t imagine you not being here with me.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m still right here.  Let’s just enjoy this, Frank, that we’re together another night. Don’t think about the what ifs, it does no good for anyone,” and you can’t help but sweetly run your fingers along his stubble as you speak softly to him.

 

He kisses you long and good after that before he’s pulling away to hug his body to yours.  And as he whispers into your ear how much he loves you, you can’t help but let a couple tears escape as you go against your own advice, and think about how what if Frank _hadn’t_ been there in time. 


	52. Farmer's Market

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something catches Frank's eye at the Farmer's Market

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by tumblr user frankxcastle's perfect term of 'Farmer's Market Hot' for a picture of Jon Bernthal. Special thank you to tumblr user badgirlprotagonist for the suggestion and the sweet review :)

Even though he’s grown a beard now, Frank still wears a baseball cap while out in public with you.  At least you got him to not wear a black t-shirt, he compromised and wore a plaid button up shirt.  You figured a guy dressed in all black in the spring would draw more attention than anything.

Frank has spent the last few weeks recovering in your apartment.  Claire was kind enough to stop by daily, tending to him as you waited on him hand and foot, much to his disagreement that you do.  When he was out one night, some criminals he was hunting got the upper hand and ran him over with their car.  He managed to get himself out alive, but he didn’t realize just how bad his internal injuries were until he collapsed on your apartment floor.  That was one of the worst nights of your life.

In that recovery period, he’s let his facial hair grow into a short beard.  His hair is a little longer too, some curls starting to make themselves known.  Since last week he’s been allowed to start walking around again so you suggested he come with you to the local farmer’s market they hold every Saturday down by the local park.

He walks just a tad bit slower than he would normally, he’s almost fully healed but not completely. 

“You need to sit down or anything, you just tell me, okay?” You say low to him as you walk to the first vendor. 

He squeezes your hand he’s holding, “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.  You’ve done enough of that these past few weeks.”

“You would have too if our situations were reversed,” you nudge his shoulder gently with your own.  Frank looks at you for a few seconds before nodding, “Of course I would have.  Anything happened to you…” and he just shakes his head before finishing that thought. 

Stopping in your tracks, causing him to also stop and look at you, you take his chin gently and kiss him.  You feel him smile a bit into it before you’re pulling away, “You know, they have a few booths here selling coffee.  Free samples even from what I’ve heard,” you grin. 

He knows you’re distracting him from his previous thought and as obvious as it is, he appreciates it.  Matching your grin, he kisses you again, “Yeah?  They good with people taking more than one?”

With a laugh, you shake your head at his joke as he kisses your head.  Continuing on, you stop at a few booths buying fresh vegetables and some baked goods.  At one of the coffee booths, Frank tried a couple free samples, you even gave him half of yours.  He fell in love with a Nicaraguan coffee so you bought a few bags of it. 

It was several booths later that you were looking at the flowers on display when you heard the vendor speaking to someone, “Sir? Excuse me sir? Can I help you? Are you interested in buying those?”

Looking up, you see she’s speaking to Frank.  And he has no idea.

Frank is gently touching the petals of a bouquet of dahlias, completely zoned out. 

“Ma’am, he’s with me. We’re just looking right now, but thank you!” you inform the vendor who just politely smiles and nods before glancing at Frank one more time.

Before you approach him, you watch him.  His eyes don’t leave the flowers and his fingers never stop gently feeling the petals.  And deep down, you just know. Maybe it’s because you know him so well or maybe it’s a woman’s intuition, you aren’t sure yourself.

Walking over, you place a hand on his arm and that’s what breaks him from his concentration.  He looks at you, almost like he’s forgotten where he was.  He pulls his hand away from the bouquet and grabs your hand instead.  He watches as you reach out and pick up the same bouquet that held his attention.

“Excuse me, ma’am.  We’d like to buy these, please,” and you hand her the flowers for her to wrap in paper. 

“What are you doing? Those aren’t your favorite flowers,” Frank questions you quietly.

“I know. But they’re hers,” you look at him with a small smile. 

You watch as his eyes seem to just slightly well up before he licks his lips quick and looks away from you briefly.

He feels your hand on his cheek as you turn his face back towards yours, “We can keep some at the apartment if you want, then maybe…bring her the rest?”

“I haven’t…I haven’t been there in a while,” his voice breaks a little. 

“It’s okay,” you soothe, “We can go whenever you want to, or not at all.  It’s your choice, Frank.”

The woman hands you the flowers and you give her the money for them.  You take a moment to look at them, even smell them.  Frank uses his finger to tilt your chin up and he kisses you.  When he pulls away, he sees the slight confusion on your face. 

“Ain’t no way a guy like me deserves a woman like you.  I know how lucky I am to have you, just know that,” he shares.

–

You had placed the flowers in a vase when you both got home.  And by nightfall, Frank had decided that he would like to bring her some; he also asked if you would come with him.   Though you felt like it wasn’t your place to go, you agreed, for him. 

You entered the property with Frank’s hand around yours, his other holding a few dahlias you tied together with a ribbon. 

He squeezes your hand as he kisses your temple.  Then he lets go as he walks forward several feet towards a trio of graves.

More specifically, Maria’s.  


	53. All Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank's been waiting for you to come home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (non-graphic/implied smut)

There were days like this. Days where you’d get home and neither of you would really waste any time in touching the other.

 

You turn from putting your purse down and taking off your shoes, and Frank is already right in front of you. Your face is gingerly grasped by those strong hands of his and he’s slowly placing kisses all over - your eyebrows, the sides of your nose, your eyes, your cheeks, just every inch of your sweet skin.

 

You grasp his forearms and smile to yourself. You missed him. Just the hours at work are too long for you to be away from him. You always miss him. 

 

He finally kisses you properly. When you pull away, you move his hands from your face so you can take one in your own. 

 

You lead him to the bed you share and gently push his chest so he sits on the edge.  You can see in his dark eyes that he needs you, needs to see you, all of you. 

 

Frank gets like this sometimes. He’ll be in the mood, but it’s also about looking at your body. Almost like he needs to see that there’s still something pure that exists, that not every body is drenched in blood lying in a dark alley somewhere. 

 

You undo your jeans and when your grip the sides of the waist to pull them off, his hands are over yours. You look at him. 

 

“I got it.”

 

You slip your hands out from under his and watch as he slowly slides them down your legs; you step out of them when they reach your ankles and he lightly tosses them to the side. 

 

His hands each touch a calf and slowly run up your legs. The calloused pads of his fingers giving you goosebumps. He admires every inch of you like you’re a statue made just for him.

 

As his hands reach the top of your thighs, he slides them around the top, sliding up to palm your ass. 

 

He grips each cheek tenderly as he pulls you even closer so you’re right between his spread knees. 

 

Your hand slides through his hair as his hands slip in under the hem of your shirt, sliding it up to your waist. 

 

You feel the hairs of his short beard below your navel right before you feel his lips.  Just a feather light trace of a kiss.  Then it’s his forehead pressed against you, right below your chest, with his hands keeping your shirt up. 

 

Every breath that leaves his nose tickles as it crawls along your skin. He just stays like that, in some odd resemblance of a hug. You just run your hand through his hair because he needs this sometimes. Needs to enjoy the soft, smooth feeling of a woman’s body. It’s a comfort that was ripped from his life that day in the park. 

 

When he finally leans back, his mouth is back at it. He places soft kisses all along your lower abdomen.  He stays in one sensitive spot by your right hip - his teeth nip the area delicately before you feel the pleasurable feeling of it being lightly sucked, with kisses in between. 

 

You inhale sharply when he starts. He uses one hand to keep your shirt lifted on that side as his other arm wraps around the back of your thighs, holding you in place. 

 

Your nerves are on fire and the feeling spreads lower down.  

 

When he finishes marking you, he places a lazy kiss over it. A final seal of approval.

 

This time you hold up the front of your shirt as Frank’s fingers sneak between your skin and the fabric of your panties, he moves them down about half an inch, stopping just before your sweet spot. 

 

You feel your breath catch in your throat as his warm breath hits you. He grazes his nose along the edge, his mouth skimming along your core, over the fabric. 

 

“...Frank” you breath quietly. You don’t even realize that you buck your hips forward, ever so slightly, an invitation of sorts.  But he notices and that’s the cause of his smirk. 

 

Next, the back of his finger brushes over you down there, his eyes looking up and finding yours. 

 

He only sees your eyes for a split second because his touch has you leaning your head back and a quiet moan slip out of you. 

 

You look down at him and he’s still there waiting to see you.  You lean down and kiss him, and it awakens him more. 

 

Without breaking from you, he stands up and has your back against the wall before you know what hits you.  Both your hands go to his belt, impatience taking hold, but Frank grabs your hands and holds them up against the wall on either side of your head; palm to palm, fingers moving against his, a hint of interlocking. 

 

You pull away and playfully narrow your gaze at him. You see that gleam of mischievous in his eyes, the only tell you get. 

 

When he meets you halfway to take your lips again, you move your head back. Your slightly parted lips a prize for him to get.  This time it’s he who narrows his stare, but you see the slightest hint of a smile as the corner of his mouth turns up.

 

He slowly closes the gap between you. His own parted lips, brush up against yours. His, just for a second, slightly close on your top lip in one of the most shiver-inducing, almost kisses, you’ve ever had. 

 

He lets one of your hands go to tenderly grasp the side of your neck. His thumb sweeps across your lower lip before resting on your throat.  You feel his finger just caress the column of your throat as he looks between your eyes and your lips.

 

You’ll never be afraid him. Even as he literally has you by the neck, those hands of his that could no doubt squeeze, crushing your windpipe - you know there’s no chance in hell he would ever do that to you. 

 

Then you notice, his eyes stay on your lips, but he’s not there. He has a far off look to him and this has happened before too. You lose him for a second. He gets lost inside his own head, you never know if he’s replaying a killing he’s done, or seeing his family, or lost in a different war-torn memory.  Despite it, his finger never stops moving against you.

 

Your knuckles brush along his beard, “Hey. You still with me?” you softly ask.

 

The confusion lines between his eyebrows show up for the half second he regains his surroundings. When his eyes find yours you see the memory fog dissipate from them, replaced by a small light.

 

His gruff voice reassures you, “I’m still with you.” 

 

You lick your lips which you see causes him to swallow, “Good.”

 

His other hand grasps the other side of your neck, his thumbs gently push your chin up, your throat exposed for the taking.

 

He nuzzles his nose against the underside of your chin before kissing along your throat. His lips pulse as a manly purr leaves his mouth as he nips at your neck. 

 

When he’s done, you push his chest. And knowing he’s letting you move him, you push him back to sitting on the edge of the bed. However this time, you place a knee on either side of his hips, straddling him. 

 

He watches as you grab the hem of your shirt and start to pull it off; his hands skim your sides, trailing behind the hem as it’s lifted. You toss the shirt to the side and Frank’s hands rub over your shoulders. 

 

It’s hard not to take notice of the harsh difference of the blank canvas of your skin as opposed to his that’s marked up by scars and scabs. But where most see a damaged individual, you see a work of art. And where some may see a mismatched pair, you see two discarded pieces of some screwed up puzzle, that fit oh so perfectly together.

 

“You know...sometimes I feel like I shouldn’t even put my hands on you. Like I’m tarnishing you somehow.” 

 

Your heart hurts and you wish you could just get him to see himself the way you see him.

 

You wrap your arms around his neck, “How many times have you touched me? Do I look tarnished to you?” 

 

His hands run from your hips to your upper back, “Shit, no. You’re fucking beautiful.”  

 

You kiss him softly, “Always put your hands on me, Frank. Never question that.”  You smile, kissing his cheek. You feel his cheek move as he smiles too. 

 

He kisses your collarbone, moving outwards to your shoulder. He feels you shiver and he knows it’s from his beard tickling you. 

 

He keeps his beard flush with your skin as he moves down to kiss the exposed skin of the top of your breasts. He doesn’t miss the small, breathy gasp you give out as a result. Getting you to make that noise is something he prides himself on. 

 

He unhooks your bra and slides it off your arms, dropping it on the floor.  Then he stands up, holding you to him, and turns around to place you on the bed. As he goes to settle on top of you, you place your foot on his shoulder, stopping him from getting closer, “Clothes off, Castle.” 

 

His gruff chuckle makes you smile as he stands up. He grabs the back of his tshirt, by the neck, and pulls it up and forward, off of his torso. You watch as his arms flex with the movements. 

 

You subconsciously spread your knees as you watch him.  Frank winks at you before undoing his belt and taking his pants off. 

 

You straighten your legs out as he kneels back onto the bed and leans down. You watch as his face goes right to your panty clad heat and playfully bites at it through the fabric. Your hips buck upward at his actions and you moan out, your breathing quickening. He moves up and places a kiss before jutting his chin out a bit and running his beard up your body, stopping at your neck; just like before, your body shivers for him. 

 

His dog tags pool between your breasts as he kisses your neck, his one hand running along the inside of your thigh. 

 

He kisses along your jaw, moving until he captures your lips. As his tongue slips in, his hand cups your breast, fingers kneading.  You break away from him to moan, and he just simply moves the kissing to the corner of your mouth, relishing in your sounds. 

 

All of a sudden the bud of your breast is in his mouth and you feel like you might black out from the sensation. The motion of his tongue and the grazing of his beard is a combination that can’t be beat. 

 

Every part of you is arching into him. You can’t help but writhe underneath him as your body tries to contain the pleasure surging through you. It’s when he moves his hand from your other breast and slides it into your panties that you can’t contain it anymore. His mouth is still on your chest and you’re lost in waves of bliss. You squeeze your thighs against his hand as it moves and grip at his bicep and his hair.  

 

“Frank, please.” You half whine, half moan. 

 

He eyes you from where he’s kissing your chest and smirks.  

 

He moves up, watching as your face reacts to what he’s doing down below.  You slide your hand down and grasp his as he continues.  As the full impact of his actions washes over you, you feel like you can’t even catch your breath. 

 

His hand starts at the base of your neck and just glides down your sternum, down your stomach, until he reaches your underwear. You lift your hips as he pulls them off of you, kissing your legs as he does so.  You feel the flutter in your body when you watch him discard his own. 

 

Afterwards, you’re lying on top of him. Your legs are straddling one of his thighs as your chin rests on your arms that are folded on his chest. He’s running his hand through your hair repeatedly, watching you.  You brush your hand over his eyebrow, wiping a stray bead of sweat away.  

 

You’re not far from him at all, but you’re still not close enough for his liking which is why he says to you, “Get up here” with a grin. You smirk and move; you now have both legs nestled between his. You drape your arms over his shoulders and tuck your face next to his. He wraps an arm protectively over your lower back and cradles the back of your head.  He turns away from you to kiss the crook of your elbow before turning back to you, kissing the bridge of your nose. 

 

You cup his cheek and kiss his lips. His hand on the back of your head slides into your hair, pulling you closer.  

 

When you both pull away, he presses a sweet, quick kiss to your lips. 

 

“Don’t leave tonight. Just stay right here with me.” 

 

He presses a kiss below your eye, “I’m all yours.” 


	54. Like No Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another break up under your belt and Frank is there to listen.

Frank finds you on the roof of your building. You’re leaning against the waist high edge of the roof, legs stretched out in front of you. He can see you staring mindlessly at your feet as you scrape the ground every now and then. 

 

“Had me worried for a second,” he cuts through the background noise of the city that surrounds you and starts heading over to you, “Didn’t see you in your apartment, figured…” and he stops talking when you lift your head at his voice. 

 

In the moonlight, he can see the reflection off your wet cheeks. 

 

You swipe at your cheeks as inconspicuously as you can, not knowing that he already noticed. You sit up a little straighter and plaster on a fake grin, “Figured what?” 

 

He leans next to you, “Figured you up and moved on me. Finally got tired of my bullshit,” but the levity he originally meant to say it with disappeared the second he saw your tears. 

 

You nudge his arm playfully and turn your head towards him, “Could never get tired of you. You make life...interesting,” you say with a small smile. 

 

He huffs out a laugh and briefly squints into the dark before looking towards you, “Interesting, huh? That’s about as nice as one could put it, I guess.”

 

He gets a small laugh out of you; he’ll take what he can get. 

 

Ever since he helped you survive that mugging a year ago, you two formed a nice, albeit odd, friendship that just seemed to work for both of you. 

 

“You wanna tell me what’s got you upset?” and his voice is so soft you almost feel like crying again. 

 

“Not really? It’s so trivial and...and stupid.” 

 

It’s  _ so _ trivial, especially to discuss it with someone like Frank.

 

“Try me,” he offers sincerely. 

 

With a sigh, “Todd and I broke up.”

 

“God, I hate that name,” Frank mumbles. You laugh because you remember how hard he ragged on you for choosing to date a guy with that name.

 

“He do somethin’ to you?” and you can hear that protective tone he uses. He even sits up more like he’ll find Todd this very second to make him pay for whatever it was he did. 

 

“No, no,” you put a hand on his arm, “I just…” and you feel the hot tears spring to your eyes again, “Jesus, I can’t Frank. Not with you, not with what you’ve been through.”

He nods slowly but then ducks his head to catch your eye, “Yeah, yeah you can. It’s okay, I promise.”

 

He knows and he’s sincere. He cares about you too much for you to feel like you can’t talk to him. 

 

You stare at him for a few seconds before you shake your head, “I don’t get what’s wrong with me,” you start and Frank interrupts you already to reply with “Nothing.”

 

“Yeah? So how am I single again?”

 

And he shrugs so calmly, “‘Cause these shitheads couldn’t spot a good thing if you slapped them in the face.”

 

A tiny smirk is on your face for the briefest moment, then it’s gone too fast. 

 

“I just want to find my person already, find that one guy who loves me as much as I love him,” and now Frank chooses to stay quiet. 

 

“I want him to think about me all the time. To call me just because he missed the sound of my voice,” and as you continue your mind starts remembering, “To try and make me laugh because he loves to hear it,” and each thing you list you realize Frank has done them in his own way and you wonder if the problem is you’ve been subconsciously comparing every guy you date to Frank.

 

“To come home and tell me how much he’s been wanting to hold me all day,” you sigh as you finish rambling. With a defeated shrug, “I want him to kiss me like there’s no tomorrow and to just... _ love _ me for everything I am.”

 

Frank’s eyes haven’t left you and you glance down at the ground, too emotional to say anything else. 

 

He moves to stand in front of you. Now his hand comes into view as he holds it out to you. You look at him and put your hand in his. 

 

You let him pull you to your feet and then he has an arm around your waist. You place one arm along his bicep, hand on his shoulder as you grip his side with your other. 

 

Frank’s hand slides along your cheek slowly, “I love your laugh. And you’re in the back of my mind every damn minute. And holding you at the end of the day? Shit, that sounds better than anything.”

 

And you’re not entirely sure what he’s trying to say, but you give a quiet laugh, “Frank,” you whine quietly, “I’m serious,” you figure he’s trying to be a good friend. 

 

Frank doesn’t crack a smile at all, he just keeps his eyes on yours and you see something different in them.

 

“When have I ever lied to you?” 

 

He never has. 

 

As you go to say  _ something _ , he leans in and captures your lips with his own. 

 

And Frank kisses you. Really  _ kisses _ you.  

 

His hand never leaves your cheek, you somehow even are able to register the feel of his thumb smoothing over your skin. 

 

The kiss leaves you both breathless and he only pulls away enough to press his forehead against yours. You sweetly nuzzle the side of his nose with yours before you pull back to look at him. 

 

“Like no tomorrow,” you whisper, repeating your earlier words. 

 

“Yeah,” he says, thumb moving along your skin again, “Except there better be a tomorrow. Because  _ I _ love you for everything you are, and I’m plannin' on showin' you every single day.” 


	55. Drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're drunk and Frank is there to take care of you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote this awhile ago (pre-TPS) and completely forgot about it lol. So here it is!

It was a couple hours after midnight when Frank came walking through the door of the apartment you two shared.  His night finished sooner than he had figured, but that was fine by him.  The sooner he got to come home to you was never a bad thing. 

 

He expected to see you on the couch, lounging in one of his shirts, reading or typing away at the laptop of yours.  Instead, he sees your purse on the floor and the bathroom door halfway open.  He walks over and pushes it open further. 

 

Wearing a burgundy dress that hugs you in all the right places and still in your heels, you’re situated on the floor, with your elbow propped up on the toilet seat, forehead against your palm.  You have your legs tucked underneath you, eyes closed.  For a second he thinks maybe you’re asleep.  But as soon as he takes a step inside you open your eyes.

 

“If you need anything stitched, I really really can’t tonight,” you mumble before leaning your temple on your hand. 

 

He can’t help but smirk, “Rough night? Where the hell did you go?”

 

Groaning, “A last minute ladies’ night out.” 

 

He walks over to you and runs his hand over your hair, “Fun time at least?”

 

“Oh yeah, the best,” and you mean it but your current state doesn’t convey that properly, “I’m just instantly regretting it now.”

 

Frank starts taking off his jacket and vest, “What time did you get in?” He places the items in the dry bathtub, then sits down.  With his back against the side of the tub, he stretches his legs out in front of him, now being parallel to you. 

 

“I think maybe 20 minutes ago.  Nothing’s happened yet, but I feel like it probably will at some point,” referencing your current location.  Frank just chuckles, then gently reaches out to you.  He grabs your ankles with one hand and slowly pulls your legs straight and into his lap.  Slowly he removes each high heel, placing them next to him neatly, then starts rubbing each foot slowly, those calloused fingers kneading the soles so perfectly.

 

“No,” you moan quietly, “That feels so nice.”  You lean back against the wall, resting your head back gently. 

 

He just grins as he watches what he’s doing.  His raw and bloody knuckles an odd combination with the pink from your toenail polish. 

 

“How’d you get home? Should have called me,” he looks at you.

 

Your hand over your eyes from the mix of pleasure at his actions and the distress of your body, “Cab. And right, call you so the ringtone goes off and gives away your location to some asshole, like you’d really need that happening,” you quip straight faced.

 

That gets a quick laugh out of him, “Well, you sound like yourself.  Guess you can’t be feeling _that_ bad. And by the way, I keep it on vibrate,” he smirks.

 

He gets a soft smile from you and a breathy laugh before you move your hand and look at him. 

 

“You know you can call me when I’m out there, right? You ever need me, you call me,” His tone more serious now.

 

That soft smile never falters, “I know. Thank you.”  Frank gives a short nod, before he finishes the foot massage, just leaving your feet in his lap.

 

“You mind helping me with something else?”

 

His hand is rubbing your shins absentmindedly, “Whatever you need.” 

 

With a huff as your drunken dramatics kicks in a bit, you pull at the fabric of the dress, “I need to get this off, I’m burning up in it,” you drop your hands at your sides in frustration.

 

Frank gets such a kick out of you the few times he’s seen you drunk; he laughs, “You got it. Besides, you know I’m pretty good at undressin’ you at this point,” he can’t help but tease with a smirk.

 

Blushing, you still laugh, “Frank! Not now.”

 

Still smirking, Frank gently moves your feet from his lap and stands up, “Alright, alright.”  He walks over to you and crouches down in front of you, then he motions for you to lean forward.  In exasperation, you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, face burying into his skin. 

 

He turns his face and kisses your neck as he rubs your back gently.  He then rubs your side as he slowly pulls down the zipper at the back of the dress.  Once you feel the zipper open all the way, you lean back slowly, Frank grabbing at the fabric at your shoulders and pulling the dress towards him.  The fabric gets removed from your frame above the waist, your black, strapless bra now in view.  Nothing Frank hasn’t seen before. 

 

“Hold onto me again,” Frank requests and you do as he asks, hugging his neck.  He keeps an arm around your waist and lifts you up a bit, using his other hand to tug the bottom half of the dress down, past your ass, before gently placing you back down on the tile floor.

 

You unwrap your arms from his neck but move your hands to his jaw, grasping his face lightly, “Thank you,” you brush your thumbs over the corners of his mouth.  Frank leans forward, your hands never leaving his face, and kisses your forehead, then presses a kiss to your cheek, and finally kisses your lips. 

 

You smile and let him go, leaning back against the wall as he pulls the dress down your legs until he’s got it in his hand.  He grabs your heels he placed to the side and stands up, “Hey, stay right there,” he jokes, getting a groan out of you but a smile. 

 

Frank leaves the bathroom and comes back a few minutes later, one of his t-shirts in his hands.  Crouching back in front of you, you lift your arms up.  He bunches up the hem of the shirt then places it over your head and arms, pulling it down your body.  Then he runs his hands down your sides, stopping at your waist, “I think you’re probably good at this point. Come on, I’ll bring you to bed,” and his grip tightens slightly in anticipation of picking you up.

 

“No, no,” you grab the crooks of his elbows, “I feel it, it’s gonna happen at some point.  Just leave me here, I’m sleeping here tonight. The tile is nice and cool and I don’t have to worry about not making it when it does finally hit.”

 

He just looks at you for a few seconds, before giving an understanding nod.  Then he moves to sit back in his original spot, back against the side of the tub.  Sharing a look with you, he pats his thigh.

 

“Frank, what are you doing?” you ask with an amused smirk.

 

“If you’re sleeping in here, so am I.  Only reason I sleep in the bed is because you’re there, so if you’re in here, I am too,” and he pats his thigh again, “So c’mere.”

 

You move forward, laying down on your back, head on his thigh.  His hand settles on the crown of your head, thumb stroking your hair.  Both of you end up falling asleep as planned.  Frank’s chin is resting against his chest, hand still touching your head but thumb still.

 

Then you somehow feel it in your sleep, that nasty, warm feeling of the contents of your stomach as they start heading upwards.  Your eyes shoot open and you’re scrambling to your knees as you lean over the toilet bowl and throw up the fun night you had. 

 

At your movements, Frank bolts awake. He’s on one knee behind you, “Hey, hey,” he says softly as he gathers your hair in one hand and slips the other under your shirt to caress your side soothingly.  It’s over in a couple of minutes, and you feel so much better, just weak now.  You rest your forehead in your palm as Frank leans forward and flushes the toilet. 

 

He kisses your temple, “Got another round comin’?”

 

You just shake your head in response and he feels how your body is trembling just a bit.

 

“We gotta get some water in you,” he stands up and gently pulls you up with him. 

 

You grip onto the sink, a little dizzy, “I need to brush my teeth first.”

 

“Alright, well, I’m holdin’ onto you. Ain’t riskin’ you falling,” and he keeps an arm wrapped around you from behind.  You grab your toothbrush and Frank grabs the toothpaste, squeezing some onto the brush for you.  Once you’re finished brushing and gargling some mouthwash, you run a shaky hand through your hair.

 

“I got you, come on,” he softly says before he’s leaning down to scoop you into his arms. Frank carries you to the bed, even pulling the covers over you before he’s walking into the kitchen and getting a glass of water.  When he brings it over, he takes a seat on the edge next to you as you sit up a bit and drink almost the whole glass.  Then you lay down with a hand on your forehead, hands still shaking a bit.  He leans down and kisses your cheek, lips lingering on your skin for a second.  You bring your hand to his face and almost hold him there, feeling his nose move across your temple as he kisses your forehead. 

 

“You need anything else?” he murmurs against your brow before pulling back to look at you.

 

“No, I’m okay, thank you,” and you stroke his gritty stubble with your thumb.  He leans into your touch before standing back up.  Despite what you said, he refills the glass and places it on the side table next to you.

 

“Just in case,” he tells you before he’s walking around to his side, pulling off his shirt and pants before crawling under the covers with you. 

 

As he settles down, he looks over at you, your eyes already closed.  Snuggled on your side facing him, he smiles as he hears you sleepily say, “Thanks for putting up with my drunk ass.”

 

He chuckles softly before rolling onto his side to face you, hand caressing your face, “Yeah, well thanks for always putting up with my murdering ass.” 

 

Eyes still closed, you give a short laugh at that but then he sees a smirk stay lingering on your face, amused. 

 

“What?” he asks with a grin.

 

“You’re right, it is a murdering ass.  It’s so fine it kills me every time,” you open your eyes to see his reaction as you giggle at your own joke.

 

Frank laughs, “You’re still a little drunk, aren’t you?”

 

“Little bit, yeah,” you laugh as he pulls you against his body.

 

“Kills me every time,” you hear Frank repeat with amusement under his breath before he chuckles again at the line.


	56. Love Bites

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An old one; nsfw

It’s gotta be the shot he took to the head that’s made him like this.  Sure, he would get turned on while watching Maria too, but he feels more animalistic than he remembers ever being.  

 

You’re putting away the dishes, that you just washed and dried, from dinner.  Frank is sitting at the table, sipping a cup of coffee, watching you since you cleared the table.  

 

It’s a comfortable silence that had fallen over you both.  You were focused on your task, Frank focused on your ass.   When your shirt rides up, revealing your hip, as you reached up to put a plate away, he finds himself emitting a low growl.  You happen to hear it too and look over your shoulder with a smirk, “You okay over there?”

 

He beckons you over with a finger and you raise your eyebrow before walking over to him. As you stand between his legs, his knees squeeze against them, locking them in place.  He kisses your stomach through your shirt before looking up at you as he undoes the button of your jeans and pulls the zipper down. 

 

Your cheeks instantly flush as his fingers glide along the waistband before pulling them all the way down.  You step out of them and he nudges them out of the way with his foot.  The rough pads of his fingers slide under your shirt and push it up as his nose nudges against your hip. 

 

You squeal in surprise when he unexpectedly, gently bites your hip.  He smiles as he leans back and looks up at you.  He stands up, hands gliding up your thighs as he grows taller and his chest brushing against yours as he leans into your space before he’s at full height.  Your butt hits the edge of the table as he moves in front of you.  

 

In one quick movement he picks you up by your hips and sits you on top of the table.  His hands don’t let go as he moves between your legs; he leans down to meet your parted lips, but he simply brushes his own against yours before finally capturing them.  

 

He feels your hands move the hem of his shirt up so he pulls away long enough to pull it off, before his mouth is back on yours.  When he pulls away again, it’s to take your shirt and bra off then he’s moving into your space again.  He guides you as you lay back on the table.  

 

He leans down, snaking the tip of his tongue along your skin above the waistband of your panties.  One hand moves to grip your thigh as he’s back at the spot he nipped on your hip.  You inhale a sharp breath as you feel him start lightly sucking the skin there, his teeth quickly dragging across it every now and then.  Goosebumps cover your body as his other hand starts sliding up your stomach.

 

He slides his hand up until the crook of his thumb is situated up against, and underneath, your breast.   He hears you quietly breathe out his name as his thumb moves slowly along your skin.  You reach down and your fingers bury themselves in his hair.  His stubble is a rough addition to his gentle sucking but it turns you on nonetheless. 

 

His hand moves to your other breast and he feels you lift your hips up briefly in response.  When he finishes leaving the hickey, he stands up between your legs.  He glides his hands up your thighs until his thumbs meet between your legs setting your nerves on fire.   He then slides his hands up your sides slowly as he places a line of kisses from your navel to your sternum. 

Your nails dig into his hard biceps as his mouth wraps around your breast.  And just as he did on your hip, you feel him suck gently before his tongue swirls up around your skin to the peak.   He drags his teeth gently along your flesh as he pulls his mouth away.  He gives you a quick kiss before he gives your other breast the same attention.

 

He grips your ribcage as his mouth works.  The corners of his mouth twitch up in the slightest when he feels you arching your back due to his tongue which only pushes your chest further into his mouth increasing your pleasure.  He gets his own pleasure from feeling you tug on his hair every now and then in response to what he’s doing to you. 

 

When he slides his mouth off your chest, he puts his hands on your face and kisses you softly.  You wrap your arms around his neck, his hands sliding underneath your back and as he stands up, he pulls you with him until you’re sitting up.  You feverishly undo his belt and zipper, pushing his pants and underwear down as his hands slide into your hair above your ears, pressing kisses to your temple, forehead, and eyebrows.  

 

He pushes his clothes off the rest of the way before picking you up and bringing you over to the bed.  He lays you down and pulls your underwear down your legs, tossing them to the side.   He crawls on top of you and his mouth is back on your chest.  He sucks lightly on the top of your breast as his hand slides between your legs.  

 

You swear you see stars as the surges of pleasure from both ends meet somewhere in the middle exploding within your body.  When he successfully bruises your chest, he moves his kisses to your neck, whispering encouragements to you as he feels your body tremble underneath him. 

 

You grip the back of his neck and dig your nails into his back as you push your head back into the mattress.  When your mouth falls open with cries of his name, he nuzzles your nose, kissing the corner of your lips and watches as your body succumbs to the high. 

 

As you catch your breath, you hear his low, deep voice warn you, “I ain’t finished with you.” 

 

Frank proceeds to pleasure you into nightfall.  He licks your body and nips at it in a multitude of places.  After the last round of love making, you both lay side by side catching your breaths.  He leans over you, looking down your body and notices his marks have reached their peak in color.   As he starts leaning toward the one on your chest, you cup his cheek, “Frank, I’m starting to feel like a chew toy.”  

 

He chuckles and lifts his head to sweetly kiss you, “Well I happen to know you taste unbelievably sweet, so can you blame me?”

 

Your mouth falls open slightly as you feel an intense wave of heat overcome your whole body.  It only makes his smirk smugger as he kisses you again, “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

 

He chuckles as he leans back down to your chest and softly kisses his handiwork.   He moves to your ribcage where another one of his creations is and kisses that spot too.  He continues placing his seals of love on each and every hickey, all the way down to your thighs.  

 

When he moves back up, he pulls you against him as he lays on his side, “I didn’t hurt you at all, did I?”

 

You grab his chin and kiss him, “Did I sound like I was in pain?” 

 

He smirks as your fingers are still holding onto his stubble covered chin, “Once or twice.”

 

You giggle and poke his ribs, “No.  You didn’t hurt me.  You never hurt me.” 

 

He smiles and leans in, brushing his lips against yours, “So what are you going to do about the ones you gave me?”

 

You giggle some more, before kissing him, “You look pretty good in black and blue. I think I’ll add just a few more to the collection.”

 

You hear a low growl come out behind his grin before he kisses you passionately. 


	57. Cabin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another old one

You haven’t seen him in days.  He’s checked in via texts so you wouldn’t worry, but you still do.  Somewhere in the back of your mind you wonder if it’s really him texting, if he’s actually hurt somewhere but only telling you he’s okay, and the worst being if maybe he’s decided to never come back to you due to guilt of his past or fear for your safety. 

 

One morning, six days after last seeing him, you wake up to find a lightly snoring, sleeping Frank on the couch.  His gear is piled on the floor, boots against the wall by the window he uses as a door.   At the sight of him, tears spring to your eyes knowing that he’s safe and just at having him back.  The only thing you want to do is jump on him and kiss him but you know how exhausted he probably is; with sleep being the number one thing he always needs you somehow find the self-control to leave him be. 

 

Heading into the kitchen, you start the coffee you know he’ll seek out upon his wakening, and pull out a mug for him.  It’s only about five minutes later that you notice the snoring stop.  Turning towards the couch, you see him slowly sit up, tilting his head to each side to loosen the stiff muscles.   He stands up and makes his way over to you.

 

“Missed you like hell, girl,” Frank envelopes you in a hug, his nose burying in your hair.   

 

Your arms go around his neck and you hug him tight, the uncertainty of the past few days finally being released as the joy of him being home overcomes. 

 

“You have no idea how much I missed you too,” you quietly utter near his ear.  Frank rubs your back and kisses your temple.

 

“I know the texts probably did shit to keep you from worrying.  Sorry for being away so long,” he pulls back to look at you, his healing, broken knuckles gently grazing your cheek. 

 

“All that matters is that you’re home.”

 

_Home_ , hell it’s been a long time since he used that word.  But hearing you say it, hell it felt so right.

 

Frank leans in and kisses you softly, his hand cupping your cheek.  His other hand gravitates to smooth over your ass as he opens his mouth to deepen the kiss a bit.  God how you missed him, missed this. 

 

As he pulls away, he presses a quick kiss to your lips, followed by one to your forehead, before turning towards the coffee pot.  He sees the mug you pulled out for him and smirks.   He picks it up and gestures to it, “Trying to tell me something?”

 

You found the mug recently, during Frank’s absence, and knew you had to buy it.  It had trees on it and it said, ‘What Happens at the Cabin, Stays at the Cabin’.

 

Blushing, you give a tiny shrug, “Haven’t seen you in a week, Frank.  Figured we could make up for it?”

 

He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you against his chest, “Not a bad idea at all.”

 

___

 

As soon as he brings your suitcase and his gear bag inside, he’s tucking a 9mm into the back of his pants.

 

“Just want to do a sweep of the outside real quick,” he squeezes your hip and kisses you, “I’ll be right back.”

 

He leaves out the back door and you begin to unpack your clothes.  In the short time he’s gone, you hear the distant rumble of thunder and then the rain starts.  Once everything was unpacked, you headed into the kitchen and opened the drawer with the candles in it.  In the chance that the electricity went out, you wanted to be prepared. 

 

Frank comes back inside, his whole self now soaking wet from the unexpected rain storm.  He wipes a hand over his hair as he shakes his head a bit to rid some water. 

 

“Shit, at least we beat the storm getting here,”  he slips his boots off by the door and shrugs off his wet coat.  You quickly head into the bathroom and grab a towel.  When you walk back to Frank, his shirt is already off and he’s in the process of pulling his wet pants off. 

 

The towel is hugged to your chest as you find yourself frozen in place, watching the show before you.  Frank glances up and sees you staring, “Hey…”  he calls to you, a grin on his face.  You snap out of it and give a little shake of your head as you close the distance between you and hand him the towel; your whole face is on fire at being caught.

 

As you go to walk away, he wraps an arm around you and pulls you back, “Nuh uh, come back here,” he teases.  With his other arm he wipes the towel at his wet chest and face before dropping it so he could secure that arm around you too.  You keep your eyes on his chest and you play with his dog tags to avoid that annoying, adorable grin on his face. 

 

He knows you’re flustered from being caught and he ducks his head a bit to catch your eye, “Got you all to myself here, can’t avoid me beautiful,” he jokes.  You groan quietly at still being embarrassed but you quickly forget when his lips are suddenly on yours. 

 

You squeeze his hips lightly in reflex as you feel his tongue against yours.  His damp body pressed against yours has made your own clothes soak up some water.  When he pulls away, he looks down at your clothes before looking back at you with a lopsided grin.  He cups your cheek and pulls you in to give you another kiss only to say in a low, gravelly tone, “Looks like I got you wet.”

 

A soft whine leaves your mouth at his words but before anything could happen, the lights in the cabin go out.  It’s pitch black inside, and you hear as Frank reaches behind him to lock the back door. 

 

“Candles are on the counter,” you offer, so glad that you thought to do that. 

 

Frank finds your hand on his hip and slips his hand over it, lacing his fingers with yours.  He knows how you sometimes get nervous with storms, so he keeps you with him.  He leads you as he heads into the kitchen.  He walks like he has night vision; he doesn’t go slow or feel around.  The soldier in him knows the layout perfectly and knows how to navigate in these circumstances.  He pulls you close so you’re against the counter and presses his thigh against yours as he steps to the side a bit.  He grabs the matchbook you placed next to the candles and lights a match, quickly lighting the five or so candles.

 

With some light now flickering, he looks at you, “You okay?”

 

“You’re here.  I’m okay,” and it’s definitive and it makes his heart beat a little faster.  He never thought he’d be someone’s steady constant again, the one they turn to for help or reassurance.  But here you are and here he is, and it works. 

 

He places his hand on the back of your head and gently pulls you forward as he kisses your forehead.  He hands you a candle and takes one himself.  Both of you move over to the fireplace where Frank places his candle on the mantel.  You stay close and provide just enough light with your own so that he can toss some logs into the fireplace and light them up.  With the fireplace now lit and the flames growing, the cabin was more romantic than ever.  Even the rumbles of thunder and cracks of lightening couldn’t take away from it. 

 

He smiles as he moves in front of you; he gently takes the candle from your hand and turns to place it on the mantel next to his.  You don’t need them anymore with the fire going.

 

He takes your hand again, and grabs a folded blanket from the basket next to the couch.  Laying down, he pulls you on top of him then pulls the blanket over you both.  As you settle your head on his chest, his hand gently massages the back of your scalp.  His other hand slips under your shit and rests on your lower back.  You’re surrounded by warmth and it’s not surprising when your eyes slowly close.  As you drift to sleep, you just feel the slow, soothing movements of his fingers in your hair and the gentle pressure of his lips as he slowly, but repeatedly presses kisses to your forehead. 

 

This was what you wanted.  Six days of no Frank created a massive emptiness in your life.  To have him back and to have him like this, and it was only day one of your little getaway, well it was more than amazing.  You knew that he’d make up for being gone and you couldn’t wait. 


End file.
